


Behind the Curtain

by RenjiFan



Series: Behind the Curtain [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Actors, Phone Sex, Sexy Times, supernatural - the play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenjiFan/pseuds/RenjiFan
Summary: Jared is a senior at NYU, studying to be an actor and paying the bills by working as an agent for a phone-sex hotline. (Can’t tell ya much more without ruining the story, so just read it! lol)
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: Behind the Curtain [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800667
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ November 2008

This part of campus is usually quiet at night, most of the students heading toward the parking structures and lots or toward the bus stops and subway terminals. Jared likes the seclusion he feels when he walks in the opposite direction, toward his small studio apartment seated above the old coffee shop a couple of blocks from campus.

The walk home is his personal quiet time, as he calls it, time to reflect on that night’s lecture or scene. However, more often than not lately, the time is spent thinking about the enigma that is his acting coach, a one Mr. Jensen Ackles.

Jared’s breath is a solid cloud as he sighs, stuffing his hands into his parka to shield them from the November air and he shifts his shoulders to better distribute the weight of his pack. Jensen, he thinks, liking the way the name sounds in his mind’s voice. He’s unlike anyone Jared has met while in New York, and definitely different from any of the other professors or academic instructors at NYU.

Mr. Ackles doesn’t strike Jared as the type to voluntarily sign up to be an acting coach for up and coming stars. Jared’s never really been one to categorize people by their appearance, but even if he wasn’t more talented than most of the people currently employed on the Broadway stage, the man could be a star based on his looks alone. Gorgeous green eyes framed with long lashes, pale skin marred perfectly with spatters of golden freckles, lips that captivate when they move to speak, and his voice. The man has a voice, so quiet and yet so commanding. Jared has found himself lost in the movement of his voice more than the man’s words on more than one occasion, his tone varying from light and appeasing to dark and menacing, the occasional slip of his Texas roots blending his vowels. Why the hell the man is working as an instructor is a question Jared has always wanted to ask, but he knows it’s not his place as someone studying under him. Knows better than to ask such a personal question of someone so utterly professional.

“Jared!”

Pulled from his thoughts by the shrill voice, Jared turns to see Sandy McCoy running toward him, barely dodging a kid on a moped speeding by her with a loud curse and a not too subtle offer of a certain finger.

He smiles as she finally reaches him, pack slung on her right shoulder, hair sticking out in all directions from under her knit cap. “Hey,” he says warmly, putting an arm around her shoulder as they begin to walk again.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” she asks, but there’s no aggravation in her voice, just a warm acceptance of the fact that Jared is a spaz and forgets almost anything that isn’t related to school or his acting.

He bites his lip and squints guiltily, looking down at her amused expression. “Uh, what’d I forget?”

Sandy laughs, hitting his chest lightly as she pulls away to retrieve a small booklet from her bag. “Macbeth?” she says, tapping the book against Jared’s arm. “We totally had a study-date and you promised you’d help me prepare for tomorrow’s audition.”

Jared lets out an “ahhh” and nods, cause yea, he did forget but now he remembers that he did in fact promise to run lines with her, and since she’s his best friend, he’s totally not off the hook cause he can’t remember what day of the week it is, let alone plans for said day. Sandy chuckles and shoves him lightly as they continue down the sidewalk. The way is barely lit by dimmed street lights and the glow from several shops but Jared’s walked this path every night for seven months and before he knows it, they’re in front of Jerome’s Coffee and Donuts.

“So, what’d you think about Mr. Ackles’ lesson tonight?” Sandy asks conversationally as they make their way up the fire escape. Jared rummages through his jeans pocket for his keys and shrugs.

“I dunno.” He opens the door and holds it open for Sandy before sliding in behind her, tossing his keys on the small table by the door. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love the classics, but I’m never going to be Caesar. Wish we could focus on more modern styles, ya know?” He shrugs out of his jacket and throws it over the side of the couch, watching as Sandy does the same, along with her scarf and hat.

“That so wasn’t the point, Jared. The point was to know your character inside and out. That’s something that applies to traditional as well as modern styles.”

He purses his lips at her, duh clearly spelled out on his face as she plops down on the couch. “What I meant was that, the dialogue we worked on is so far from what I want to do. The inflections are different, the pacing.”

Sandy nods in understanding, but he can still see the underlying arrogance in her eyes and he sighs. “I’m gettin’ a beer. You want?” he asks as he heads to the small sectioned-off kitchen area of the studio.

“Bottled water if you have it!” she calls back and he rolls his eyes.

Fetching himself a bottle of the beer they had on sale at the corner market and one of the mini-sized bottles of water he tries to always have in stock for her, because yes, she’s that anal about her water, he returns to the living area and sits down beside her.

He takes the booklet she hands him and starts flipping through it, seeing the highlighted sections for Lady Macbeth. He looks up at her shrugging her shoulders, getting ready, his brow arched in question.

“Start at the top of page four,” she says, pulling her hair away from her face to fall against her back.

Jared takes a sip of his beer and places it on the table. After taking in a deep breath, he starts reading.

~*~

Sandy doesn’t get the part.

She’s devastated and pouting when Jared finds her inside the library, hiding behind a book on Asian Cultures and Influences. It doesn’t take much to convince her to abandon her studies for a night out at the bar.

They go to Joe’s, a small and thankfully cheap pub about three blocks from campus. Jared doesn’t have much cash these days, most of his money spent trying to take care of all of the bills Chris left when he took off, but he does know Joe pretty well and the guy gives them a pretty decent discount.

Four shots of tequila and three beers each later, they’re giggling and stumbling back to Jared’s, since it’s closer than the dorms, and when Sandy kisses him on the fire escape, Jared kisses back.

They’d tried the dating thing once, back in high school, and it just didn’t work. They’re better as friends, but occasionally, when one or both of them needs to let off some steam, they’ll end up like this.

They end up fucking on Jared’s full-sized bed, which is too small for him and much more so when there are two of them, but Sandy’s tiny anyways. They pass out, Sandy half on top of him, hair tickling his nose and when he wakes up the next morning, she’s gone, a note lying on his pillow with a simple “Thanks. <3 you.” scribbled in red ink.

He knows she’ll be discouraged for a while still, but he’ll be there to make sure she doesn’t give up. She’s a good actress, and a great friend, and he’ll be damned if he lets some flaky ass off-Broadway director make her second guess her skill.

Even if she does do the classics. Fucking Shakespeare.

~*~

“I swear to Christ, Chad. You hit me again and I’ll hog-tie your skinny tail and put you ass up on Ackles’ desk,” Jared threatens from his seat.

Chad M. (not to be confused with Chad L., who is currently shoving a pencil in his nose to make Alona laugh) grins, teeth shining bright under the fluorescent lights and winks. “He’d probably like it,” he says teasingly, eyes flicking to the small, unoccupied desk that Mr. Ackles uses for their lessons.

The class is small, maybe only fifteen students, but that’s the way it goes for non-credit courses. Mr. Ackles is a coach, not a professor, and every one of the people in the class attend for the sole purpose of improving on styles they’ve already learned in courses at the university.

“You’re a dick,” Jared says with a laugh, shaking his head. He picks up the pencil Chad had thrown at him and throws it back, Chad barely dodging the projectile and yelping slightly as he almost falls from his seat.

Jared is laughing full out, hands clapping in front of him when he hears the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat.

All eyes turn to the front of the small room and onto Mr. Ackles. He’s dressed casually, as usual, well worn jeans and a moss green button down worn untucked. He’s got a small briefcase with him that he lays flat on the desk before letting his eyes roam over the attendees of the night’s class.

Jared considers himself a born and bred Texas boy, but he’s always been what he calls “fleetingly curious” about guys on a more than platonic level. It’s always been a “Would I?” or “What would it be like?” or something along those lines but it never really perplexed him for more than a moment. That all changed when he signed up for Mr. Ackles class; Mr. Ackles who is all kinds of hot as he peers through those black-framed glasses with green eyes just as bright as the shirt covering his chest.

“You’re droolin’ again.” He hears Sandy tease the boy beside her, a friend of theirs named Tom from California. The resulting chuckle from Chad and the mumbled ‘fuck off’ from Tom are enough to break Jared’s own obvious stare from his coach as he looks over to grin at Sandy.

“So, looks like we lost another one,” Mr. Ackles says, his voice smooth and yet laced with his obvious disappointment.

“Sir, Mike asked me to let you know that he will be back for next week’s lesson. He had to go home for a family emergency last night,” Tom says from his desk, smile wide and inviting, his eyes suggesting things Jared thinks should be outlawed, at least in this classroom, you know, where he’s sitting right here.

Mr. Ackles nods, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thank you, Tom,” he says quietly, moving behind his desk to open his briefcase. “Ok, so if we’re all ready….” he begins and there’s a shuffle of papers and movement as everyone straightens, ready for the lesson to begin.

Most of the time, Mr. Ackles will start with a short lecture, focusing on a particular skill or aspect of acting before asking them to perform a scene, critiquing them as necessary to emphasize and it seems tonight is no different as he pulls out several papers from the case, laying them on the desk.

“Alright,” he starts, peering down at his notes before pulling off his glasses and wiping them mindlessly with the bottom of his shirt. “Tonight, I wanna discuss point of view. Now,” he pauses, sliding his glasses back into place. “Probably the most important thing to remember in acting is your audience. Even more than your character, you have to think of how your character is perceived by your audience.”

Jared listens, watches as Mr. Ackles makes his way in front of his desk, sitting back and cocking his hip to support his weight as he crosses his feet in front of him. He crosses his arms about his chest and Jared can see the slight strain on the fabric of his shirt as the muscles inside press again the hem.

He’s hit with a sudden urge to pull that shirt away so he can examine those muscles for himself and he flushes, realizing that he’s totally fantasizing about his coach during a lesson, for God’s sake. He doesn’t know what it is about this man that makes him feel so off-kilter. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a guy, or maybe it has more to do with him being older, more experienced, more mature… Hell, it could be all of those things. All he knows is that Mr. Ackles defies every law imaginable with those eyes and lips and that goddamn voice. Jared bites the inside of his cheek and narrows his eyes to focus on what Mr. Ackles is saying, cursing himself for getting lost in his thoughts and not paying attention.

“What most actors don’t realize, when they’re starting out, is that everyone is going to process things differently. You’d think it would be obvious, to us, since we portray so many different people, all with different personalities and backgrounds and it’s our job to understand all there is to know about a character and how they differ from another, but sometimes, while we’re focusing on all these aspects of our character, we forget that this also applies to our audience.”

Mr. Ackles straightens, motions toward Steve, the stereotypical “hippie” of their class. “For example, Steve. If I said the words ‘smoke out’ to you, what would it imply?” There’s a slight smirk playing on Mr. Ackles’ lips and Jared has to tear his eyes away from it to look at his classmate.

The class chuckles as Steve grins and brings his thumb and index finger pressed together up to his lips and inhales deeply. His attention goes back as he catches Mr. Ackles moving from his peripheral vision and sees the man shaking his head in amusement.

“Now, see. That’s probably what a lot of people would think of, but imagine what a World War vet would imagine, or hell, any veteran,” Mr. Ackles continues, waving a hand in the air. “The term ‘smoke out’ to them would mean something entirely different, would relate to things from horrible times, not something so…enjoyable.”

Jared nods along with the rest of the class as the meaning sinks in.

“So it’s important to remember these things when we’re on stage, or in front of a camera. We have to explain things not just with our words, but with how we say them, how we project them. Everything is about presentation, and we have to remember that we have to encompass our meaning in what we say just as well as we deliver the lines.”

“I’m going to act out the same dialogue, using our previous example phrase, to show you the importance of presentation and perception.” The class watches as Mr. Ackles’ eyes close half-way, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards as he relaxes his shoulders. He looks completely wasted and lazy, content, and Jared feels a sudden heat trickle through his gut at the hooded eyes glancing over the class.

“There’s a smoke-out over on Elmhurst and Grove,” he drawls, almost all vowels and not for the first time, Jared recognizes that Texas accent flowing through his coach’s words, feels the warmth in his gut flare as the deep voice rumbles over and through him, reminding him of home and hot summer nights.

The class chuckles at his somewhat perfect stoner impression, but Jared’s uncomfortable, shifting in his sheet, his eyes still refusing to leave Mr. Ackles.

“Now,” Mr. Ackles’ says in his normal tone as he straightens and they all watch as he transforms again, his green eyes growing wide and panicked, his shoulders tensing and trembling as he rushes to Chad M.’s desk in the front row. He grabs the sides of the desk and shouts, his voice terrified and high-pitched, “There’s a smoke-out over on Elmhurst and Grove!”

Chad jumps backward in his seat at the sudden movement and everyone is stunned into silence as Mr. Ackles steps back, his composure back in place as he looks over each of them.

“You see the difference?” he asks simply and they all nod quickly. “You have to put yourself in your audience’s headspace. You have to hear what they are hearing from you, feel what they feel when you speak.”

Jared shifts in his seat again, barely noticing the curious glance Sandy sends his way as his eyes stare intently, ears perked and focusing solely on his coach, straining to hear the Texas accent, praying for eye contact as he continues. “The most important thing to remember about your audience is that they are your lifeblood. They are the ones you are performing for. Without them, you’re nothing. This craft is nothing without its audience. And we can never forget that as various as our characters are, the same applies to our audience, so we have to show them what to feel, regardless of their backgrounds, their predispositions. If you can do that, if you can control how your audience feels with your performance, then you will succeed.”

~*~

Jared needs money. It’s kind of an ongoing struggle lately, and he works various odd jobs that he finds through friends, saving up as much as he can to put toward his bills. This last month, he’s actually resorted to using some of his financial aid to cover his utility bills. His status as unemployed changes unexpectedly, though, when Tom comes up to him during their shared Lit. class on a blustery Wednesday afternoon.

“So, you’re still broke, right?” is how Tom starts off the conversation and Jared cocks a brow at him.

“You’re really no good with social interaction, you know that, right?” he responds, twirling his pencil between his fingers as Tom sits down at the table in front of him.

“Shut up,” Tom says without heat, turning around to face him. “I’m serious. I picked up this part-time job, doing some phone work, but Professor Johnson is making me put in extra hours at the lab to pass his stupid course, so I gotta quit.”

“And what does that have to do with me being broke?” Jared asks, setting the pen down on his papers in front of him.

“You have a nice voice,” Tom says nonchalantly, like it’s an obvious fact. “And I know you could use the funds since you had to be all snobbish and move away from the dorms.”

Jared scoffs and rolls his eyes. He doesn’t want to get into the reasons he moved out of the dorms, doesn’t want to think about how his former best friend since forever totally left him hanging with a lease and a stack of bills to take care of on his own so he could find himself on tour with a bunch of crazy punk rockers. “What’s the job?”

“Sex hot-line,” Tom says, voice hushed to ensure no one else can overhear. Jared’s eyes widen a bit, eyebrows raised in surprise. Tom never seemed like the hot-line type of guy, though, Jared has to admit, he’s never really considered who was that type. Before he can reply, though, Tom continues, his cheeks beginning to tint a dark red. “It’s not that bad, and it can be fun, and the money’s good and-”

“It’s just acting, right?” Jared finishes, a slight grin on his face and Tom nods as relief seems to wash over him, shoulders relaxing him back to his normal, cool self.

“You have to go under a contract, and I can’t quit unless I find someone else,” he says casually, but Jared can hear the plea in his words.

He bites his lip in thought for a moment before he thinks of the bills sitting on his desk at home, of the empty side of his studio apartment where Chris’ twin bed used to be, of how much it would fucking suck to have no electricity if he couldn’t find another odd job in the next week or two.

“Sure. Count me in, man.”

The smile Tom gives him is blinding and grateful and when he stands and claps Jared on the shoulder with a meaningful “You’re awesome,” Jared thinks What the hell. It’s just acting.

~*~

The set-up is nice. It’s a contracted job, like Tom had told him before, so the company actually sets up a phone line in his place, along with a phone and headset for reasons he really doesn’t want to think about when he logs into the phone for the first time.

He was given the protocol and rules by his manager, a small but intelligent man by the name of Eric, who told him all he had to do was log in with his codes and the operator would handle all of the financial details before patching his “client” through. He was scheduled four nights a week, from ten until two, and his main objective was to play into his caller’s fantasies and pretty much do anything they ask to keep them on the line as long as possible. The more money he made for the company, the more he’d receive in the end. Hell, it was almost like a retail job.

That fact still doesn’t calm his nerves though, as he punches in the final number of his operator code and presses pound. There’s a high-pitched tone and then silence over the headset and Jared sits back in his chair, waiting for his first caller.

The operator pops on just seconds later, greeting Jared with a bored “Got a woman on the line who wants someone to tie her up and spank her ‘pretty pink ass.’” Jared almost chokes as he sits up straight in the chair.

“Uh, ok. Sure. Put her through,” he says, forcing his voice steady.

The woman tells him her name is Sarah and she’s been a bad, bad girl and Jared rolls his eyes, biting his lip to keep from laughing. She’s got to be in her fifties, by the sound of her cigarette roughed voice and she sounds more like death warmed over than the sexy blonde she portrays herself to be.

Thirty five minutes later, Jared’s craving a beer as Sarah is telling him he’s got the most amazing voice and thanking him for getting her off so thoroughly. He mentally shrugs, figures it wasn’t so bad once he was able to get past his initial nerves and claims it as a win in his favor when she hangs up, promising to call again and ask for her now-favorite Jay.

He gets a five minute break between calls, so he rushes to the fridge for a beer and strategically moves his recliner beside his desk so he can relax during his next call.

He takes a long pull from his beer before putting his headset back on, settling back into the comfort of the second-hand recliner he bought when he and Chris first moved into the studio. Right on cue, the operator is on the line at the five minute mark.

“Hey,” she says, and Jared immediately notices this isn’t the same operator as before and idly wonders how many of them he’s going to encounter. At least she sounds friendly enough.

“Hey,” he says back, taking another sip of his beer. “What cha got for me?”

She giggles and he can almost picture her in his head, petite, blonde with a nice smile. “His name is J.R., and he sounds kinda shy.”

“Really?” Jared asks, kinda floored that the expected Her name was replaced with his. Neither Tom nor Eric had mentioned that there would be men on his line as well as women. He shrugs it off, though, comfortable enough with his acting ability, forcefully ignoring the anxious trembling in the pit of his stomach.

The operator giggles again and says, “He sounds nice, though. Should be ok.”

Jared downs the rest of his beer and puts it down on the desk beside him before taking a deep breath. “Alright, send him over.”

A couple of seconds pass in silence and Jared can’t hear anything on the other line, thinks maybe the guy hung up. “J.R.?” he asks into the dead air.

He hears the shuffle of papers on the other line and doesn’t know whether to be pleased or not. He really is kind of nervous but he keeps repeating It’s just acting. It’s just acting. over and over in his head, a calming mantra.

“Hey…” J.R.’s voice is soft, smooth, gentle almost and Jared finds himself relaxing almost instantly.

“Hey… I’m Jay. What can I do for ya tonight?” Jared asks, his voice matching J.R.’s in volume, hoping to win him over.

J.R. clears his throat. “Uh… hey. I, uh… don’t usually, you know-” He cuts himself off and Jared finds himself smiling at his shyness, even over the phone.

“It’s ok, ya know. That’s what I’m here for. We can do whatever you want. This is your time.” He’s surprised by the compassion he hears in his own voice, wonders if he’s acting or if it’s real and then mentally kicks himself because he’s a phone sex operator and why the hell does it really matter as long as he can keep this guy talking and he gets paid.

His mental tirade dissipates when J.R. speaks again. “I don’t know how to start,” he says and lets out a small laugh at his own expense.

Jared closes his eyes and rests his head on the back of the recliner, getting into character, feeling Jared wash away and his new persona Jay coming back. After his first caller, he’s gotten a pretty good feel for him, though the situations seem to be completely different, where Sarah knew exactly what she wanted and pretty much led the conversation, it seems it’ll be Jay doing the leading this time. Jared focuses on that, on his confidence, on projecting it.

He remembers Mr. Ackles lecture two weeks ago, about how you can say so many things, but the important thing was saying them the right way and knowing your audience. He decides that’s where he should start with J.R..

“Tell me about yourself,” Jared says easily.

“Eh, ha. Well….” He can hear J.R. shifting around on the line again and he tries to imagine it. “I’m six foot and some change, brown hair, really kinda ordinary,” he chuckles again, this time more relaxed and Jared’s smile returns. There’s something familiar about his voice, something comforting. “Uh… What about you?”

Jared rolls his neck to loosen the tension in his shoulders, letting his words roll out of him as he relaxes. “’Bout as tall as you, maybe a bit taller. Brown hair, hazel eyes. I’ve got broad shoulders and long legs… Big feet.” He lets out a chuckle of his own that J.R. matches, seemingly relieved at Jared’s attempt at breaking the ice.

“What – What else about you… is big?” he asks shyly and Jared bites his lip, lets out a tiny hum through his teeth.

“My cock. But it isn’t just big, J.R.. It’s thick, too,” he says, voice dropping and carrying over the line. It’s not hard to say things like this, he finds, when he’s in Jay’s headspace and not his own.

He hears the slight hitch in J.R.’s breath and does a mental fist pump. He can totally do this. He’s an actor. No way he can’t get a guy off just as well as a chick.

“Would you like me to tell you about it, J.R.? Or would you rather touch it, maybe taste it?”

Jared hears J.R. swallow, his breath catching as he tries to speak. “Just – Tell me what you’d do… if I were there,” he says, and Jared can tell he’s touching himself now, can hear the hitching of his breath as he slowly pumps himself to the sound of Jared’s voice.

Jared closes his eyes and tries to imagine it, but there’s a wall where his mind would usually go, his memories of a woman’s body laid out, spread and ready for him. He struggles for a moment, trying to latch onto an image, but nothing comes to his mind’s eye. It had been so easy with Sarah, just imagining Sandy or any number of ex-girlfriends or one-night stands, but now, faced with this task, he’s drawing a blank.

Jared opens his eyes and glances around his apartment, praying for inspiration when J.R. speaks again. “Tell me, Jay,” and there’s a roll of a southern accent, a Texas accent and suddenly Jared sees nothing but green eyes staring back at him through black-rimmed glasses. He knows he should feel guilty, but his caller’s voice, laced with need and grit and rolling his tongue around his name like that…

He swallows thickly, his own cock stirring as he replaces the female form in his mind with that of his coach, flushed and sweaty, cock hard and pulsing. “I’d start with your lips,” he says, his voice shaky but steadily gaining strength as he continues. “I’d lick open your mouth, drag my teeth against your lips and bite down just enough so that you can feel me….”

He pauses as he hears J.R. let out a low groan at his words, a smirk on his lips as he closes his eyes again, picturing it in his head. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, J.R.? You’d let me bite and suck and lick down your neck, marking you up, letting everyone know what I’d done to you. Wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, god, yea…” J.R. sighs into the phone and Jared can hear the faint sound of flesh on flesh echoing from the line. He sees Mr. Ackles in his head, laid out on his bed, fist wrapped tight over his cock, biting on his plump, thick, kissable lips.

“I’d work my way down real slow, make sure to taste every inch of you before kneelin’ in front of you, my large hands pullin’ on your ass as I sucked you down, let your cock sink down into my throat, swallowin’ around you, over and over until you start shaking. Are you shakin’, J.R.? Can you feel my mouth around your dick?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yea, Jay,” Jared doesn’t even realize he’s palming his own cock through his sweatpants until he hears the shuddering breath. When J.R. breathes his name, his cock swells to almost painful underneath his hand.

“I’ll let you fall out of my mouth, let your dick bob against my mouth as I sink lower, open you up, my tongue licking around your balls, making my way back. I’m holding you up now, you’re shaking so bad, and god, you taste so good as I lick your hole. God….” Jared slips his hand under the slack band of his sweats and takes himself in hand, stroking, unable to stop as he hears J.R. curse. “Are you close, baby?”

“Just… little more,” J.R. chokes, his voice deep and broken and GOD, why does that turn Jared on so fucking bad?

“I get you nice and wet with my tongue, can’t help but to keep tastin’ you as I start fingerin’ you open, pushin’ inside your ass. So fuckin’ hot, J.R.,” Jared chokes on his own words as his orgasm starts boiling in the deepest part of his stomach, his imagination working overtime, Mr. Ackles spread for him, his ass hot and tight and sucking in Jared’s fingers over and over. “Can’t stop fuckin’ you with my fingers, J.R.. Can’t stop, don’t wanna stop.”

“Oh, oh, shit…” J.R. gasps, breath shuddering loudly in Jared’s ear and he has to bite his lip hard as his own orgasm rips out of him, tearing out a part of his soul as wet heat spills over his fist, meets the fabric of his sweats and staining them.

“Fuck….” Jared shudders, wondering if J.R. has any idea that he just worked himself off on the other end. Hell, even he knows he’s not that good of an actor, but he just couldn’t help it, the images swimming in his head, J.R.’s deep and gritty and needy voice coaxing him on.

“Well, ah,” J.R. says, sounding embarrassed now that he’s finally come back from his orgasm. “Thanks.”

Jared wants to laugh, tell the guy ‘anytime,’ but he seriously can’t fucking feel his toes right now and his pants are wet and stained and his head is about as coherent as a heroin addict’s, so instead he breathes out “You’re welcome,” as steadily as he can.

Before he knows it, the line is dead and the clock is ticking before his next caller. He rushes to the bathroom to clean up and clear his head, wondering just what the fuck he was thinking, getting himself off on the phone with a stranger, then realizes he just got paid to get off with a stranger and strangely, he feels a little better.

Until he realizes he’s got class with Mr. Ackles tomorrow night, with all of these new, fresh and exciting images floating in his head. He groans in frustration and fists a hand in his hair, tugging slightly as he stares at himself in the mirror. “What the hell is wrong with you, Padalecki?” he asks himself, and as always, his reflection offers no solution to his latest problem. Just stares back, almost mockingly, until Jared turns away and heads back to the desk chair, deciding it’s much safer than the recliner.

~*~

Jared is fidgety in class, so much so that Sandy keep passing him weird looks. He can’t help it, though, as he waits for Mr. Ackles to arrive for the night’s lesson. He can’t stop thinking about the night before, the fantasy that’d played out in his head so vividly and how turned on he’d been, how hard he’d come with the picture of a wrecked and sexed up Mr. Ackles swimming around in his head.

Who was now walking into the classroom with a pair of black slacks that should’ve been fucking illegal.

Jared’s head hits the desk with a loud thud and he doesn’t have to look up to know everyone is turned toward him. He doesn’t really care, can’t really focus on anything except the fact that he, Jared Padalecki, the guy who turns down more dates than almost anyone in the Arts field at NYU, is fucking lusting after his coach. His most definitely male coach and yea, there’s no more “fleeting” about it. He’s definitely curious about what it would be like, definitely wants to find out.

He falls further into his desk until he can’t smush his nose any further and prays to whoever will listen that he can sink into the floor and disappear, because he seriously can’t look at Mr. Ackles right now.

And it seems whoever is listening hates him, because not two seconds later, Mr. Ackles is calling his name.

His face flushes bright pink, and he can almost feel the heat radiating off of his cheeks as he lifts his head and flicks his gaze toward his coach.

“Would you mind staying after for a few minutes this evening? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” Mr. Ackles says, his tone professional and he seems unaware that Jared is currently having an internal spaz attack.

Jared just nods, not trusting his voice.

Mr. Ackles begins the lesson but Jared still can’t concentrate. His mind keeps flashing back, won’t let him stay in the current moment. He feels guilty, because Mr. Ackles is nothing if not professional and he deserves Jared’s full attention, doesn’t deserve to be oogled and have fantasies played out behind his back by his student.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you tonight?” Sandy whispers from beside him and Jared noticeably jumps, tries to play it off by reaching for his pack.

“Nothin’s wrong. Just tired,” he says grumpily and sags a bit. Sandy doesn’t deserve the dick treatment anymore than Mr. Ackles deserves his unwanted attentions. “I’m sorry,” he amends. “I’m just… not all here tonight.”

She nods, as if she completely understands, which she may, who knows. All Jared knows is that this lesson is going by entirely too slowly and all he really wants to do is go home and get a couple hours of sleep before he has to….

Take callers….

FUCK.


	2. Chapter 2

“Jared,” Mr. Ackles is shuffling papers into his briefcase as Jared makes his way to the small desk. The rest of the class is filtering out and within moments, they’re alone and Jared is trying really hard to make his hands stop shaking inside the pockets of his parka.

Mr. Ackles smiles at him and Jared melts a little even as his heart pounds in his rib cage, threatening to burst out and go plop on the desk. “What’s up?” he asks, trying to sound casual.

“I don’t usually recommend people that I’m coaching for parts. Gotta be fair to all, and all of that, but…” Jared watches as he pulls a white flyer from the stack of papers in his case and slides it over the desk to him. “It’s a really good play. Friend of mine is producing it, and I think you’d be perfect for one of the main characters, Sam.”

Jared’s eyes go wide and he looks up at Mr. Ackles, sees the hesitance there. “Really?” he blurts out, more than a little shocked. It’s off-Broadway, but not so off-Broadway that it isn’t notable and Jared’s a little star-struck.

“I think you should audition. They’re holding an open casting call next week, and I’ve already given Bobby your name. You should go,” Mr. Ackles’ voice is low, and Jared hears something off in his tone, but he can’t place it.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he says, taking the flyer and studying it for a long moment. “Thank you.”

When he looks up to meet Mr. Ackles’ eyes, he feels his heart do a somersault in his chest before double-timing its beat.

“Don’t thank me, Jared. It’s a good opportunity, but you’re the one who has to win the part,” he says matter-of-factly before closing his briefcase and giving Jared that small smile once again.

Jared swallows and nods, eyes falling to the flyer again. “Thanks,” he says again and then follows as Mr. Ackles leads them from the classroom. His coach turns to lock the door and Jared continues down the hall, studying the flyer in more detail when he hears his name again.

When he looks back at the classroom door, Mr. Ackles is standing there, a look of slight hesitation on his face before he speaks again. “If you’d like, we could get together before the audition, work on a scene.”

Jared stutters and almost bites his own tongue as his brain pretty much fails. A one-on-one session with Mr. Ackles? No one else around? Oh, god, yes, please. “Uh… Yea, definitely.” He watches stupidly as Mr. Ackles gives him a small smile and nod before turning and heading down the opposite hall.

~*~

Jared slips the headset on, punches in his code and waits for his first caller, kind of hoping and not hoping that J.R. will call again. It’s weird, how he’s associated his caller with his coach, how the quiet and warm voice, gently laced with a similar southern drawl is now so closely tied with Jared’s fantasies.

Jared gets half hard just thinking about it, the way J.R.’s breath shuddered so violently as he came, Jared right behind him with Mr. Ackles laid out in his mind. And half-hard is how he spends his first three hours and five calls.

He’s sitting in his desk chair, last night still too fresh in his mind to sit back in the comfort of the recliner and practically relive the events that transpired with J.R. on the line. He’s on his third beer of the night and is waiting on the operator to drop him with another call, praying the next one isn’t nearly as crazy as the last when he hears the tone.

“Got a request for ya, Jay,” the operator says, a guy this time and Jared feels his stomach flip as he straightens in his seat.

He’d taken three female callers the night before, and one male. It only makes sense to ask. “Guy or girl?”

The operator chuckles a bit. “Guy. Name of J.R.?”

Jared can’t help the grin that cracks across his face. “Gimme a minute,” he rushes before pushing up from his chair and rearranging his headset wire so he can settle in the recliner. He slips the headpiece back on quickly and nods to no one, anticipation running rampant in his veins. “K. Send ‘em through.”

Silence and then he can hear the barely audible click as the operator connects, Jared’s ear picking up on the sound now that he’s kind of used to it. “J.R.?” he asks, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

“Yea… yea, it’s me… hi.” His voice is shy again, the timber of his voice a bit thready and Jared shifts in his recliner, tries to get comfortable.

“I was hopin’ you’d call back,” he says honestly, his voice dropped slightly, invitingly.

“Really?” he sounds surprised but pleased, and Jared can almost see the hint of a smile around the question.

“Absolutely. I enjoyed last night, more than you probably think,” he confesses, feeling a blush crawl its way from his chest to his cheeks.

“Yea… last night was… good,” J.R. says.

“So… would you like to pick up where we left off, or did you want to try something different this time?” Jared asks, keeping the conversation going.

A moment of silence and then, “I think… Maybe you could tell me… how you’d fuck me, this time,” the words are rushed, hesitant pauses as if he’s mustering the courage to speak the words and Jared feels the blood roll from his brain to his dick at an embarrassing speed.

“I can do that,” he says lowly, letting the words roll off his tongue with as much heat as he feels in his skin and it takes everything he has not to grab his cock and stroke himself off in that second.

He tells J.R. exactly what he’d do to him, how he’d open him up and take him, mark his body and claim him, bruise him, fuck him into the mattress so hard he feels him for days and it takes so much self-restraint but Jared doesn’t touch himself until he knows his caller’s close.

He jerks himself off to the sounds of J.R.’s breath, the sound of him working himself off, telling him what he does to him, how hard he is, how hard he’s going to come imagining it, taking him, slamming him against a wall and fucking into him until his fingers leave marks in his hips and soon, J.R.’s cursing loudly, shivering out a gasp and Jared can’t help but follow him over the edge, coming into the confines of his hand, panting out J.R.’s name, fighting not to say the other name lingering on his lips.

When that rough Texas voice rolls over him, a polite “Thank you,” said in a breathy whisper, Jared feels a shiver roll over his spine

“Tomorrow?” he asks, still quite breathless himself and when J.R. pants out a “Yea,” Jared says goodnight before the line goes dead.

He’ll hate himself in the morning, but tonight, he is actually pretty comfortable with the fact that he wants to fuck his coach senseless. Pretty comfortable indulging in his curiosities about men by utilizing the only resource he really has. He can’t feel bad, really, about using J.R. for his own fantasies when the guy is calling for just that purpose himself, right?

He glances at the clock and sighs with relief as he sees it’s quarter past two. No more callers tonight. He pulls of the headset and tosses it to his desk and pushes the recliner back, content in his post-orgasmic haze to doze until he has the strength to shower and sleep before his first class at noon.

His dreams are filled with green eyes behind black-rimmed glasses and the sounds of a dark Texas accent rolling over his skin.

~*~

He doesn’t have class with Mr. Ackles until Monday, so it gives him a bit of a reprieve and a chance to collect his thoughts a little, though he really kinda can’t wait four days to see him again either. He’s a complete mess, and he knows it, but seriously? He doesn’t really care. He’s an actor, he’s allowed to be dramatic, it’s what actors do.

But four days really is way too long to wait, so between his classes that Friday, he calls the number on the syllabus his coach had handed out at the beginning of the semester. He recognizes the number as a cell phone and it only takes three rings before he hears Mr. Ackles voice on the other line.

“Hello?”

Jared fumbles a moment, his nerves getting the best of him. “Hey, it’s Jared.”

“Oh… Hi… What can I do for you Jared?” Mr. Ackles sounds distracted, but Jared doesn’t let that discourage him as he walks slowly through the student square, his pack a heavy weight on his shoulder.

“I was wonderin’… I mean, you said if I wanted to, we could run those lines, for the audition?” He stops when he reaches the sidewalk leading to the building of his next class, waiting anxiously for a response.

It takes a few moments for Mr. Ackles to respond, the sound of papers rustling on the other end. “Sure… When did you have in mind?”

Jared grins. “I’m free all weekend. I mean, I have to work tonight, but anytime Saturday or Sunday. Whatever’s good for you.”

There’s another pause, but this time silence rings loudly from the line until Mr. Ackles speaks, and Jared thinks he can hear a smile in his voice. “How’s Sunday afternoon? Say two? I can text you the directions to my place.”

Jared’s nodding, his grin stretching even further. “Sounds awesome. Thanks,” he says, trying to contain his absolute glee at this whole conversation. He’s going to Mr. Ackles place, thank you very much. He is the man.

“Don’t thank me. I’ll text you later. Take care, Jared.”

“You too, Mr. Ackles.”

Jared shoves his phone in his jacket pocket and turns to enter the building housing his Lit class. He can’t contain the smile or the small skip in his step. Yea, being bisexual is really A-Ok with him, as long as it’s for his acting coach, who he just so happens to have a study-date with on Sunday. And yea, he might be acting a little bit like a twelve year old girl, but it’s ok. He’s an actor. It’s called range.

~*~

Sandy calls him a little after nine and invites him to a party going on at one of the sorority houses. He declines as politely as he can without clueing her in to his new profession. While he’s not ashamed of what he does, he doesn’t feel like explaining so he just tells Sandy he’s studying for an audition, which, in a way, is true. He’s never really considered phone sex to be a form of acting until he was presented with it, but it really is a test of characterization. He’s someone completely different on each call, using Mr. Ackles advice to listen to what his audience hears, what they want to hear from him, and he’s learning so much about presentation and conformation, it’s not even funny.

He’s worked three nights in a row, and this is his last night on the phones until Tuesday. He can’t say he’s exactly upset over not having to perform for his callers, but not being on the phone means not being able to talk to J.R., and that is something that has anticipation pumping through his veins like the most potent drug he can even think of.

J.R. had said he’d call again, said he’d call tonight when Jared had asked, but he tries not to get his hopes up, and of course, he fails miserably.

When his last call ends at half after two and he’s not heard from J.R., he’s almost depressed, his high of waiting all day to talk to him crashing him head first into a mood he can only describe as morose. He’s all worked up, nervous about seeing Mr. Ackles, afraid he’s going to make a fool of himself somehow, questioning if he’s even got a chance with the guy. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he’s gay, or bi, or whatever, but Jared … He hasn’t felt like this in… well, ever. Again with the what the fuck factor.

Frustrated, Jared throws his headset onto his desk and stalks to the fridge for a beer. He’s twisted up and he likes it and hates it all at the same time. He’s usually so in control of himself, so apathetic to others and their problems, their drama. He’s always been cool-headed and composed. Now, though, the last couple of days have his heart and his stomach doing flip flops every couple of minutes, whenever he pictures Mr. Ackles, whenever he hears the ghost of J.R.’s voice in his ears as he envisions his coach. He kinda thinks this might be a bad thing, but when he’s around him, or when he’s talking to J.R., he feels so excited, giddy, and while it’s not a feeling he’s used to, he enjoys it. Enjoys being able to get riled up over someone.

He downs the beer and throws it in the small trash can in his kitchen and resigns himself to running lines until he can pass out. He ruffles through his bag and finds the script he picked up at the studio listed on the flyer his coach had given him and flips to the first scene with “Sam,” one of the protagonists of the play. He starts mouthing the words as he reads through, trying to get a feel for the character, and is curious as to why Mr. Ackles thought he’d be good for the role.

~*~

The play is incredible, and it offers Jared a few surprises with the plot twists associated with the character he’s auditioning for.

The story itself is amazing, a tale of two brothers, Sam and Dean, on a search for a supernatural being that killed their mother when they were children. Their father was killed during their hunt, sacrificing himself to save Dean’s life, and the first act of the play is pretty much a summation of “the road so far.”

The second act follows Sam as he’s abducted, learning the cause of his mother’s death and the resulting effect on him, his physic abilities a result of deeds done by the demon the night of his mother’s death. At the end of the act, Sam is stabbed in the back by a minor character and dies in Dean’s arms.

The third act is the most emotionally straining, and the character Dean is tested physically and emotionally throughout the entire thing. Dean meets with a “crossroads” demon, selling his soul to save his brother and it’s ultimately Dean who kills the demon that murdered their mother, after he and Sam battle through a hoard of other, lesser demons and various nasties. The play ends on a somber note, Dean confessing to Sam that he sacrificed his soul and only has a year left on earth before going to hell, but that they finally did it, they got their revenge.

Jared is kind of shell-shocked after reading the script. The play is a story of self-sacrifice and revenge and it’s such a psychological roller-coaster, he wonders if he can really pull off all of the range that Sam shows. While the play will consist of a lot of prop effects and special make-up for the “demons,” the real story lies between these two brothers, so loyal and so tightly connected, and it literally breaks Jared’s heart when he read the final scene, Dean’s sad smile as he confesses that it doesn’t matter, that he’d gladly spend an eternity in hell as long as Sam is alive and ok.

He thinks about the relationship between Sam and Dean, the loyalty and sacrifice and he wonders what that would feel like, to live for someone else. Sure he’s got plenty of family and friends that he loves, but to sell your own soul to bring someone back to life? How much guilt and love and…

Jared shakes his head to clear it. He’s auditioning for Sam, he needs to get into Sam’s head, get in his skin.

He cracks open the script again, grabbing his highlighter and red felt pen to mark out the sides for his scenes. He can already feel Sam on the edge of his consciousness, but it’s going to take a bit of work to completely encompass him, to understand why he does the things he does, says what he says.

He spends the entirety of his Saturday mulling over the script, studying it intensely. His phone chirps around three o’clock and he sees Chad M.’s name before quickly turning it off. He doesn’t want any distractions. He wants to figure out who Sam is, he wants to succeed at this. If anything, he feels Dean deserves that much.

~*~

Jared finally sets the script down around eight that evening, only relenting because his stomach is protesting loud enough to interrupt his concentration. It’s been roughly seven hours since he started on his character study and he thinks he’s almost there, but there’s something holding him back from fully understanding Sam. Something just out of reach.

He fixes himself a quick sandwich and grabs a bag of chips before plopping down in his recliner and reaching for his phone. It chimes to life as he chomps down on the monstrosity he calls a ham and cheese and the welcome tone is followed by four ringing chirps, alerting him to new texts.

The first is from Chad, cussing him out for not answering when he called. Jared almost chokes on his chips when he sees the second text is from Mr. Ackles, directions to his apartment followed by a “We still on for 2?”

He quickly skips over the text from Sandy to the fourth message, also from Mr. Ackles, a simple “Jared?” It’d come in almost twenty minutes ago, a full four hours after his first text and Jared mentally smacks himself. He should’ve known better than to turn his phone off when he knew Mr. Ackles would be texting him.

He wipes his hands off on his jeans before hitting “reply” and typing out a message to his coach.

“Yea, we’re still on. Sorry about that. I had my phone off so I could study Sam. Story is amazing.” He hits send and sets his phone down, nervously munching on his sandwich and jumping slightly when the phone vibrates against his hip, chirping loudly in the silent apartment.

“NP. If you have any probs getting here, just text or call.”

Jared smiles around his mouthful and can’t help the giddiness floating around in his stomach. He hits reply and types out “Sure thing. See you tom.” before hitting send.

~*~

It feels like 30 below and Jared is pacing in front of a subway shop a block away from Mr. Ackle’s apartment building. It’s a quarter til two and he really doesn’t have the patience to wait, and he’s freezing but GOD he’s nervous.

This is going to be him and Mr. Ackles, alone, at his apartment. And that is probably the most amazing thing Jared could’ve ever imagined since he realized just how much he liked his acting coach but at the same time, he’s so nervous he’s going to say or do something stupid. He’s never actually wanted to pursue anything with a guy before, so it’s all new territory, and dammit, he’s so nervous.

He glances at the time on his cell phone again before shoving his hand back into the warmth of his jacket. It’s the coldest day in New York so far this winter and he’s going to be a popsicle if he doesn’t get inside somewhere soon, so with a deep breath that chills him to the bone he straightens and turns toward the apartment building.

He makes it in about two minutes, his long legs good for covering distance fast and he hits the buzzer for Mr. Ackles’ apartment before he can debate against it.

There’s a click and then a gruff “Yea?” that clearly is not Mr. Ackles’ voice and Jared looks at the buzzer, confused.

“Uh, I’m here to see Mr. Ackles?” he finally says, the statement more of a question, cause what the hell?

“Right,” the voice says, and there’s a sharp buzz as a click sounds from the double front doors.

Jared opens the door and heads inside, relishing the warmth of the lobby. It’s not a bad neighborhood, the lobby is clean and smells of disinfectant and Jared takes it in as he makes his way up the first flight of stairs.

When he reaches apartment 2B, his fist hovers for a moment and just as he’s about to knock, the door opens to reveal a startling attractive man with long dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, which are currently appraising Jared like he’s on sale at the general market.

“Uh,” Jared lowers his fist to his side, shoving it back in his jacket pocket. “Is Mr. Ackles here?”

The blonde moves his gaze from Jared’s jean clad legs to his eyes, a smirk tugging the side of his mouth. He jerks his head and steps back, motioning for Jared to come inside. “Jen’s in the shower. Be out in a minute. Go ‘head and have a seat,” the blonde tells him, and the whiskey rich sound of his voice coupled with the gleam in his eye has Jared even more on edge.

He makes his way slowly to the couch, sitting down on the designer leather and wow, he really didn’t know Mr. Ackles could afford to live so lavishly and he peers over his shoulder at the blonde, who is making his way back from the kitchen with two beers.

He offers Jared one and he takes it gratefully as the blonde sits down on the matching chair beside the couch. “I’m Chris, Jen’s roommate. You must be Jared,” he says and his tone is friendly, conversational and it throws Jared for a loop even more than the predatory stare he received earlier.

“Eh, yea,” he replies, at a loss, because for some reason, this guy is really intimidating. The piercing blue eyes seem to be laughing at him and he quickly turns his gaze away from Chris, taking in his surroundings.

There are framed production posters surrounding the apartment, coupled with several guitars, some behind glass cases with their own lighting. The whole place is immaculate, the décor a winding mix of music and Broadway with a little bit of nostalgic Texas sports memorabilia. Jared’s eyes catch on a poster on the far wall and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s standing and walking to it.

“Jen’s first real show,” Chris says from behind him, and Jared can’t help but stare at the picture on the front. It’s Mr. Ackles, but he looks so young , hair longer and streaked with blonde. He’s leaning against what looks like a blue tractor trailer, hands shoved deep in black jeans, the only thing covering his chest a white tank top. He’s absolutely beautiful, his face staring at the camera and there are so many emotions playing on his face, in his eyes. He looks lost, scared, humble, proud. It’s amazing, how just one look makes Jared think he knows the kid looking back at him. That he knows his life, what he’s been through.

His eyes trail down, seeing the title “A Road to Redemption.” He sees the name of a theater, but doesn’t recognize it from any of the theaters here in New York.

“Oh god, don’t look at that,” Mr. Ackles voice startles Jared out of his stare and he jumps up to find his coach in the hall leading from the living room, standing in front of what Jared can only imagine is the bathroom. A pair of well-worn jeans hang loosely from his hips, a sliver of grey elastic showing from his boxers and Jared’s eyes widen as he watches Mr. Ackles pull a black t-shirt over his head, the muscles of his shoulders bunching, dark fabric covering the muscles of his abdomen in what seems like slow motion.

“I – Uh,” Jared almost drops the bottle of beer in his hand at the sight of Mr. Ackles, damp and smiling slightly as he motions toward a room further down the hallway.

“Lemme just get my glasses.” he says, and there’s no formality like in class, his tone all warm, inviting. This is Jensen Ackles in his own element and Jared couldn’t feel more out of his.

He nods, blinking a few times before turning his head back toward the other man in the room. He catches Chris’ eyes and he swears the bastards laughing at him, but he shrugs it off, turns his attention to the now empty hallway.

He makes his way back to the couch, careful not to meet Chris’ eyes, fearful he might reveal something he isn’t quite ready to admit, at least not to a stranger, about his feelings for his coach and he’s a bit startled when Chris abruptly stands.

“There’s beer in the fridge. If you gotta smoke, you can go out on the balcony. It was nice meetin’ ya, kid.”

Jared can only stare as Chris walks toward the hallway, his mouth wording “I don’t smoke,” but no sound actually comes out. He feels like a fucking fish out of water and he prays he can get a handle on himself before Mr. Ackles comes back. What the hell is wrong with him? He was looking forward to this, and now he just feels uncomfortable, just wants to curl up into a ball small enough to hide in his backpack.

He lets out an amused snort at the mental picture his train of thought creates and feels a little better. That is, until Mr. Ackles voice comes from behind him asking, “What’s so funny?”

Jared stiffens and turns his head to follow his coach as he makes his way to the chair Chris had been sitting in.

A beat passes before Jared’s head catches up with his mouth and he rushes out, “Just… It’s weird, ya know? I knew you acted, but I mean…” He motions toward the poster he’d been admiring. “You have your own poster,” he says lamely and Mr. Ackles laughs.

He actually laughs. Not a light chuckle, not a suppressed or barely amused chortle. It’s a full, loud and happy laugh and Jared’s a little in awe of it. He’s still staring as Mr. Ackles scratches at his neck, looking over at the poster and shaking his head.

“Little run-down theater in Dallas,” he says, eyes still on the poster. “The first night, I got so nervous I actually threw up all over my co-star. She had to switch costumes like two minutes before curtain.” He laughs again, this time much lighter, nostalgic. “It was horrible.” He turns his eyes to Jared and Jared knows he’s staring like an idiot, can’t help himself.

He’s just… Mr. Ackles is just absolutely beautiful. And now he’s blushing a little, freckles standing out against the flush in stark contrast, his green eyes dark as they hold Jared’s gaze. And Jared wonders what they would look like up close, his fingers tracing along the sharp bridge of his nose…

He finally catches himself and jumps slightly, straightening. “The scripts,” he says hurriedly, grabbing for his pack. He’s searching intently, his eyes not daring to rise back to his coach’s face because he can’t help the thoughts going through his head that He was staring back. And that giddy feeling is back, his previous uncomfortable feeling replaced with anxiousness and oh, scripts!

“I think I know which scene I want to do – for the audition,” Jared starts, his voice hurried, trying to out-run the pace of his own thoughts, maybe get a handle on them as he hands Mr. Ackles the copy of the script he’d marked out for Dean. “Act three -the last scene.”

Mr. Ackles takes his script and looks at Jared with a knowing smile as he nods his head. “Yea, that would be good,” he says quietly as he turns his attention to the pages in his hands, turning them toward the final act.

They’re quiet for a few moments and Jared focuses on the lines he’s read and reread so many times by now. This last scene especially, because it speaks of brotherhood and love and a connection so deep…

He doesn’t wait for Mr. Ackles to prompt him, just jumps in and looks up, citing the first line. “Dean… What did you do?” His voice is filled with worry, and he can feel his own face conform as he looks at Mr. Ackles, envisions him as his brother, the one he knows did something to bring him back.

To Jared’s surprise, Mr. Ackles closes the script and lays it on the table in front of them, followed by his glasses. He rests his elbows on his knees and hangs his head, eyes staring at the ground for a long moment before he turns his head to look at Jared and suddenly, he’s not Mr. Ackles anymore. He’s Dean, his expression hard, jaw clenched, his heart beating hard enough to pound against the flesh of the pulse point in his neck before he finally bites out, “What I had to do, Sam.”

Jared feels his heart speed up in his chest and he finds himself standing, throwing the script on the table in a heated rush. “Don’t give me that crap, Dean. What did you do?” He’s pissed and he’s pleading. His head is spinning no, please.

Dean stands up and shakes his head, lips pursed together, eye brows drawn together as he shakes his head and when he meets Jared’s eyes, Jared feels his heart clench tight in his chest. His vibrant green eyes shine behind the wetness of unshed tears, his mouth trembling softly as he stares at his brother. “I made a deal,” he chokes out and Jared lets out a shuddering breath as the reality settles into his bones. Dean made a deal. Dean’s going to hell.

His own eyes tear up, and he sniffs hard, fighting back the ache in his chest and he looks away, shoving a hand through his hair, anger warring heavily, valiantly with the sorrow in his heart. “How long?”

Dean doesn’t answer, just keeps looking at him, that look of love and sadness breaking him in ways he can’t think about right now. He… Dean…. “How long, Dean,” he says, voice breaking between the words as the first tear finally breaks free and rolls down his flushed cheek.

Dean looks away, bites his lip. “A year.”

Jared nods, nostrils flaring. He feels sick and he can’t hold back the tears now, they’re falling freely as he stares at his brother’s profile. He aches, feels like he’s dying. Why? How could you? All of these things are going through his head but all he can choke out is, “Dean…” His head falls, eyes clenching shut, hair covering his face on both sides.

And it’s like his brother can hear his thoughts, cause he turns, his eyes anguished but proud and he puts a hand on Jared’s shoulder, fingers gripping into his flesh, like if he holds on tight enough, none of this would be true, but they both know it is as Dean bends his head to look into Sam’s face.

“It doesn’t matter. None of this matters, don’t you get that? I would sell my soul a million times over, spend a thousand eternities in hell…. As long as I know you’re alive… alive and safe.”

Jared opens his eyes and can barely see through the haze of his tears. Suddenly, seeing the green eyes staring at him he feels something click. The just-out-of-range feeling he’d been searching for with Sam just falls into place as he blinks back at Dean. DEAN. That was what he was missing. He needed to feel Dean before he could completely understand Sam, because the two of them were so utterly dependent upon one another, so under the other’s skin.

Jared swallows and straightens, suddenly out of the scene and he wipes the back of his hand across his face, clearing the tears. “Damn,” he says, disappointed that he lost the rhythm they had going.

Mr. Ackles, and it is Mr. Ackles now, bright eyed and concern. “You ok?” he asks, dropping his hand from Jared’s shoulder.

Jared nods, his eyes focusing on the scripts lying on the table and he sniffs. He’s done emotional scenes before, but that… that was new. The way he felt it, the way he could feel his heart breaking, his world closing in around him, focusing on the pain of knowing he was going to lose the person most important to him.

“That… was kinda intense,” he says, looking up to meet Mr. Ackles’ eyes and he feels his stomach do that flip-floppy thing again when his coach smiles.

“You do it that well at the audition, you’re a shoe-in,” he says, taking his place in the recliner, sliding his glasses back into place.

Jared wants to tell him, wants to explain that he never felt that way during a scene, never related to a character like that, that it was all because of Dean, Mr. Ackles’ Dean. It… God. It felt amazing.

He sighs, shaking his head. “How did you do that?” he asks him, hoping like hell he doesn’t sound or look as wrung out as he feels.

Mr. Ackles looks up, his eyebrows raised in question. “Do what?”

Jared huffs out a breath. “I – I struggled with Sam all day yesterday. I mean, all day, literally like 8 hours I worked on him, and… And you… It was Dean.”

Mr. Ackles smiles slowly, his eyes seeming to glow behind his lenses. It’s like his smile starts at his lips and just keeps going and Jared can feel himself smiling back. Cause, all of a sudden, he gets it. Can see it in his coach’s proud and mischievous eyes.

“You knew that, didn’t you? That I wouldn’t get Sam til I worked out a scene with Dean, like, actually did it. You knew.” Jared asks and answers and he can’t help shaking his head again as Mr. Ackles bites his lip to suppress his grin.

“Maybe…” Mr. Ackles turns his attention to the table, flipping a page of the script over and he gets a wistful look on his face. “Actually…” He looks back up and suddenly, his eyes are guarded almost and Jared feels like maybe he did something wrong. “I wanted to run lines with you ‘cause I’m Dean… I mean,” Mr. Ackles clears his throat but doesn’t get a chance to finish before Jared cuts him off.

“Mr. Ackles, that’s awesome!” Jared jumps from the couch, excitement thrumming from head to toe.

Jensen cocks a brow. “Please. Drop the Mr. Ackles, Jared. If…” He looks back down at the script and his expression turns almost pained. “There’s no need for formalities, really.”

Jared picks up on the shift in his tone, sees the faraway look in Jensen’s (not Mr. Ackles anymore, thank you) eyes, and he sits back down. “What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be excited? I mean, Dean is an awesome character. He… I mean, the acting that goes into him is….”

Jensen shakes his head and looks up at Jared, blinking until he focuses on the younger man. He offers a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I want you to get this part, Jared. I’ve seen what you can do in class, and I think you could really pull it off, and it’ll be a great opportunity for you. To stand out.”

Jared feels confused, like tab A isn’t fitting right with slot B and he’s standing on tab C or something and he tilts his head a little bit. “What about you?” he asks, because there is something that Jensen isn’t saying, and he may be an unbelievable actor, but even he can’t hide it behind those green eyes.

Jensen swallows and stands, brushing his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “Bobby… Bobby and I go way back. He’s a good guy, and he…” Jensen stops in front of a poster of Chicago from its last tour run, pulling a hand through his hair and tugging on the shorts strands for a moment before turning back to Jared. “He wrote the script a long time ago, and I was originally cast as Dean… Bobby offered to have me maintain the character, but…”

Jared waits patiently as Jensen gets that faraway look to his eyes again, his eyes staring blankly at the scripts on the table.

“Friend of mine… and Bobby’s… He helped write the script… He was cast to play Sam… and there, there was an accident, about two months before production was supposed to start,” Jensen’s voice is thin, and he doesn’t look at Jared, just stares blankly at the scripts. “He was killed and Bobby… He, he couldn’t do it. So he pulled out, lost so much money…” Jensen’s shaking his head now, throat tight. “But, he said he couldn’t do it, ‘cause the part was written for Jason, ya know?”

Jared’s heart rises to his throat when Jensen’s eyes finally rise and meet his and there’s so much pain there, so many memories, and he knows not even the best actor could suppress that kind of pain. He can see how close Jensen had been to this friend, can’t imagine him pressing on to play Dean after the original Sam was killed. Can’t imagine how it feels to see Jared acting out Sam’s lines…

Jensen sighs and drops his hand from his hair. “It’s been five years, and Bobby showed up a few months ago, said it was time… and I agreed… that it was time to stage the play…” he trails off and he looks so broken and every cell inside of Jared is screaming to do something to comfort him, to take that look of pain away, but he stays where he is.

A few moments of silence pass before Jared trusts himself to speak. “Why me?” he finally whispers and Jensen lets out a choked laugh that sounds more like a sob than amusement. He bites his lip and strides back to the recliner.

“Why not you, Jared?” He asks and when their eyes meet this time, Jared feels as if Jensen is searching him for an answer, but Jared doesn’t even know the question and he suddenly feels a lot like Sam, searching inside himself to give Dean what he needs to make everything better again.

He nods, not really knowing why, but he knows one thing. He is going to get this fucking part if it kills him.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Jared spends every spare minute he has between classes memorizing lines and making notes in his now well-worn script, trying not to think about Jensen. He hadn’t slept very well the night before, his mind going about thirty different directions after he left Jensen’s apartment, but that’s where every path of his mind ended – Jensen Ackles - and he was diligently trying to not go there anymore today.

But he really can’t seem to help it.

Who was this guy Jason, and what was Jensen’s relationship with him? Obviously, they’d been really really close, but was it a brother-type bond or… something else? And why did Jensen choose Jared to try out for Sam?

Add to that the fact that Jensen was a completely different person at home than he was at school, so relaxed and the way he opened up to Jared… And then that thought brings on another.

What are they now? Are they friends? Or was Jensen just taking an interest in Jared because he thinks he fits the Sam role well? Jared’s confused and on edge and the only thing he can really think is What the hell?

Jared sighs and slams the hand holding his pen down on top of the script, startling the girl sitting at the next table in the library. He offers her an apologetic smile and looks at the clock. Half an hour before Mr. Ackles… no, wait, Jensen’s class.

He seriously needs an aspirin for the headache building in his temples, but instead he packs his bag and hefts his jacket on before slinging the pack over his shoulder. He’ll get to class early, like usual, and take a seat in the back, praying Jensen won’t call on him to be an active participant tonight.

~*~

Jared skips his American Government class to attend the casting call on Wednesday afternoon. He walks into the small office and cringes as he sees the sheer abundance of attendees, all of the chairs occupied, men standing along the open space on the walls, a couple standing just behind the small desk set in the back of the tiny front room. He mentally sighs and pumps himself up a little, holding his head up high as he walks toward the heavyset woman sitting behind the desk.

“Hello,” she says and her smile is warm, brown eyes friendly as they crinkle. Jared loves her immediately because he can feel himself relax by her demeanor and he smiles back, dimples and all.

“Hi, I’m Jared Padalecki. I’m here to audition for Samuel Winchester,” he says and he hears one of the men behind him snort. He clenches his jaw in reflex because the one thing he really can’t stand is a smartass with something to prove, and man, actors always have something to prove, so he focuses his all of his attention on the lady behind the desk as she checks a list in front of her.

“Oh!” she says, looking up quickly and her smile seems brighter, more excited. “You’re Jared,” she says, as if it explains everything and he looks at her, brows raised a little and smiles tightly.

“Yes?”

“The referral from Jensen?” she asks and it’s not really a question because she’s already standing, the list in her hands as she motions for him to follow her. He readjusts his pack on his shoulder and doesn’t dare meet the eyes of any of the guys in the room that he can practically feel staring at him as he walks toward the door she’s opening.

Through the door is a small hallway lined with four chairs, another two doors at the very end. It’s bright and the coral wallpaper reminds Jared of his grandmother’s house. The woman gestures toward a chair and she smiles at him before disappearing through one of the doors. He sits and sets his bag in his lap, nervously chewing on his cuticle as he waits.

A few moments later, a young man with long dark hair opens the door and walks through, followed by the woman from the lobby and she waves at him. “Come on,” she says gently and he stands, following her into the office.

The first thing he notices is Jensen, sitting in a chair against the wall directly in front of the door, hands folded in his lap. He nods and gives Jared a smile and Jared just blinks. He didn’t know Jensen would be here, and it comforts him at the same time that it notches his nerves up another step. He looks around and sees two other men sitting behind a desk, both older. The first is dressed in casual business attire, a crisp button-down shirt and black slacks but his hair is a bit long around his skinny face. The second is almost the complete opposite, bigger and sporting a beard with spots of brown and grey, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows. They both nod at Jared and the skinnier one speaks, “Have a seat, Jared.”

He does as he’s told, his eyes flickering to Jensen as he hears the click of the door closing behind the receptionist and his heart is going nuts in his chest. He’s auditioned for parts before, but this is a bigger production than he’s used to, and Jensen is sitting five feet away and…

“So, I’m Bobby,” the one in the plaid shirt says, spurring Jared from his thoughts. He jerks his thumb toward the man beside him. “This here’s Kim, he’s the stage manager for Supernatural.” Bobby’s eyes move from Jared to Jensen sitting against the wall to his side. “Jen here’s already vouched for your credibility,” he says with a smirk as he returns his gaze to Jared. “So I won’t put you through the rigmarole of why you think you’d be a good Sam. So… what do you say we just read the scene, yea?”

Jared swallows and looks at Jensen briefly before nodding. “I uh, I picked the final scene, the dialogue with the brothers,” he says, his throat loosening the more he speaks and he concentrates on his breathing, a relaxation technique he learned in high school for pre-show jitters.

Bobby and Kim nod slightly and they both look at Jensen, “Jen?” and he can see Jensen stand in his peripheral.

And it hits Jared then. He’s going to do the scene with Jensen. He… He thought they would just want him to read the lines, to act it out. He didn’t expect an actual scene, because doing a scene is usually what happens on a call-back, after you’ve already suffered through a first read. In a way, he’s almost relieved, because after the way their last rehearsal ended, the way they’d made the brothers come alive… but, holy crap on a cracker, he’s also terrified. He respects Jensen and with everything that’s going on in his head in relation to his coach, he doesn’t honestly know if it’ll affect his performance.

Only one way to find out, he thinks, setting his bag on the floor and standing, pushing his chair back toward the wall. He watches as Jensen slips off his glasses and places them on the desk in front of Bobby, watches the way his eyes change as he turns into Dean, how his shoulders almost appear broader as he stands straighter, the lines that form around his mouth as it draws into a tight line.

Jared swallows thickly and closes his eyes for a moment before opening them and staring at Jensen and only seeing only Dean.

He can feel his breath increase, can feel the worry make its way through his veins as he stares at the guilty expression on his brother’s face, his hands clenching into fists at his side.

“Dean… What did you do?”

~*~

Jared is exhausted by the end of the night. He feels spread thin as he studies for his classes, works the phones, taking every spare second to pour over his characterization of Sam, preparing for the audition. By the time he takes off his headset on Wednesday night, he feels half dead and honestly can’t recall anything he’s said for the last hour.

He falls into bed still wearing his jeans and socks and passes out in mere minutes to the sound of his heater humming from the wall across from him.

Thursday isn’t much better, but at least the pressing urgency of the audition is gone and it’s certainly a weight off of his shoulders. He’s still sleep deprived though, Thursday being his earliest day of the week and also his longest. He curses himself for being so clever and thinking that piling four classes and his coaching session into one day would be an excellent way to be lazy the rest of the week. He’s had about four hours of sleep, eight cups of coffee and almost ten hours of academic torture when he staggers into the classroom for Jensen’s coaching.

Sandy takes one look at him and her eyes go wide. “What the hell, Jared?” she asks in surprise as he sits down in the chair beside her.

“Wow, I must really look like shit,” he says, but honestly, he can’t muster up the energy to care much, even if Jensen will be walking in the door in a few minutes. Too tired to care about the hot acting coach? Yea, Jared’s in dire need of sleep.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, putting a hand gently on his arm. She’s really worried, and Jared knows that, so he gives her the biggest smile he can muster.

“Just workin’ real hard lately, ya know? Had like four tests this week, and then the audition…” he trails off but she’s nodding in understanding, her eyes sympathetic as she leans forward and kisses his cheek, hugging him tightly in support before sitting back down in her chair.

It isn’t until she’s moved away from him that he sees Jensen out of the corner of his eye and his gaze shifts to him immediately, sees Jensen watching them as he makes his way to his desk. His face is expressionless, a mask of absolutely nothing and Jared feels a weird tug in his chest as he realizes what that must’ve looked like to Jensen. But… They aren’t anything more than… Than friends? Actor and coach? He doesn’t know what they are, and his head hurts and his fatigue is making his eyes burn.

He sighs, rubs his eyes so hard he sees spots and gulps down his too-hot coffee, almost enjoying the way it burns his throat as it slides down to his almost empty stomach.

~*~

“Jared?” Jensen’s voice calls out as Jared and Sandy head toward the door at the end of class and they stop, both turning toward their coach. “A moment?”

Jared looks at Sandy and pats her arm, letting her know everything’s fine. She nods and turns back, leaving through the exit as Jared makes his way toward Jensen’s desk. His head is pounding from too much caffeine but it’s barely touched his system. He feels like he’s moving in slow motion as he sees Jensen’s eyes follow him as he approaches.

“What’s up?” he asks, forcing a smile.

“You doin’ ok?” Jensen asks and there’s genuine concern in his voice that sends a thrill of warmth through Jared’s tired body.

He nods, rolling his neck about his shoulders in hopes to alleviate some of the tension he feels. “Just haven’t had much sleep, ya know?” he says simply and Jensen’s still staring at him, the green of his eyes almost look opaque and Jared’s a little captivated by the way the fluorescent light plays off of the flecks of gold in his irises.

And Jensen hasn’t looked away, staring back and Jared jerks slightly when he sees Jensen’s tongue flick out to rub lightly over his top lip. His eyes track the movement and when his eyes return to Jensen’s, the green looks darker, and Jared can literally see the pupils widen just slightly in the harsh light.

“You did really good yesterday,” Jensen says, and his voice is low, his eyes moving to look at the space between them before he turns to his briefcase, loading it up.

Jared’s disoriented, the lack of sleep playing with his head and he thinks he knows what he saw in Jensen’s eyes, knows what he hopes he just saw, but he can’t really trust his own judgment at the moment so he shrugs instead, watching as Jensen’s hands mold over the sides of his case to lower it closed.

“Only ‘cause you were with me,” he says before he can process what’s coming out of his mouth and Jensen straightens, looks at him curiously. “Your – Your Dean, I mean,” he stutters out. “You… Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m just so tired, I have no idea what I’m saying anymore.” Jared’s shaking his head at himself, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

He jumps slightly as he feels Jensen’s hand come down on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s alright. Come on, you need to get home. You’re gonna end up on your face if you don’t find a bed soon.” His hand slides down to the middle of Jared’s back as he guides him forward, leading them from the classroom and Jared bites the inside of his mouth, hard, because yea, he’s tired, but Jensen talking about beds and touching him? He could be dead and that would still make his dick twitch and that’s really the last thing he needs right now.

“Yea, I think you’re right,” he says, fighting away the feeling of disappointment when Jensen’s hand falls away to lock the classroom door behind them.

~*~

The hour nap he takes before he’s due on the phone isn’t enough to sustain physical activity, but it’s enough to get him through his shift on the phones. It doesn’t take much energy to pretend to jerk off, after all, and that’s all Jared’s been doing since his last call with J.R. exactly one week ago. Pretending.

He really hasn’t thought about J.R. much since that last, frustrating night on the phones last week when he didn’t call. This was mostly because Jared was so preoccupied with the audition and of course, Jensen and all the thoughts revolving around him. It isn’t until the operator chirps on, telling Jared he’s got a request that he thinks of him, and sure enough, J.R.’s been on the line, waiting the last fifteen minutes to talk with Jay.

Jared eyes the recliner guiltily but remains at his desk chair, too tired to get up and push the comfortable chair up against the desk. “Send him over,” he says and listens to the quiet click. “You didn’t call me back, J.R….,” he says teasingly and he hears a light chuckle from the other end.

“Sorry, things… some things came up,” J.R. says quietly, as if he’s trying to keep someone from hearing.

“Ah, well… What can I do for you tonight?” Jared asks and he can’t help but slouch down in his chair a little, can’t help how the deep baritone of J.R.’s voice reminds him of panting breaths and his own fist wrapped around his cock.

“Anything…” J.R. breathes out, and it sounds like he’s already started. Jared smiles and closes his eyes. “Just talk to me.”

Jared swallows at the hunger in that voice and he brings a palm up to his crotch, pressing lightly against his cock through his sweat pants. Might as well stick with tradition, he thinks as he feels himself warm to the touch, his cock stiffening a bit against his pressure.

He hums, legs spreading to support his continued slouch. “I missed you…” he says huskily. “Missed imagining what it would be like to touch you, taste you.” He’s speaking words of truth, but he knows he’s saying them to the wrong person as he pictures Jensen in his mind, those green eyes dilating widely as they stare back at him behind clear lenses.

“Yea?” J.R. whispers and there’s a scratching sound on the line as he shifts.

“Yea… You just… oh, god, you just taste so good. Your lips, your neck, your cock, all of it,” Jared’s breath comes out in a heavy sigh as he slips his hand under his sweats, fingering the head of his swollen cock as he listens to J.R.’s breath come through his headset. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Yea,” he breathes and Jared whimpers as he rolls a bead of precum around the head of his cock.

“God, yea. Touching yourself, thinking about how I wanna fuck you open with my fingers, suck your cock until I have to swallow you down.” Jared wraps his fist around his dick, tugging gently and he doesn’t fight the groan it pulls from him, hears J.R.’s hitched breath in response. “I’d let you fuck my mouth, ya know… Put your hands in my hair and fist it, push me down, make me take all of you.” Jared’s hips jerk up into his own fist as he pictures it, can’t imagine anything hotter than his coach taking control of him. It’s even hotter than the thought of spreading him out, the idea of relinquishing all control, letting Jensen buck his hips into his mouth.

“I – oh, god, I don’t think there’s anything I want more than that, Je- J.R…. Your hands on me, my hands holding onto your hips as you force yourself down my throat, maybe sliding your finger in alongside it to touch yourself inside my mouth.” Jared’s close, his words slurring in his ecstasy, mind too fuzzy to really care about his almost-slip of J.R.’s name.

“Fuck…” J.R. gasps and Jared speeds up his ministrations, thrusting his hips up with every downward jerk of his fist.

“Come for me… Please, I’m gonna…” He shoves up once more and chokes on the moan that comes freely from his chest.

“Oh, fuck,” J.R. curses and Jared can hear him suppress his own sound of pleasure as he feels hot streams of come coating his hand as he continues working his cock through his orgasm. His vision is literally blurred and he’s hanging half out of his office chair but he can’t care as they pant almost in unison over the phone line, reality nothing but an abstract dream in his haze as he stares blankly at the ceiling.

“Holy shit,” Jared says and immediately rolls his eyes at himself. He’s the phone sex operator here, what is he doing? But J.R. doesn’t seem to notice his slight, just sighs contentedly into the phone. They stay like that for a while, just breathing, coming down, neither saying a word.

“Thank you,” J.R. says, always polite and before Jared can say anything in reply, he hears the click of a disconnect.

He glances at the clock and sighs, thanking whoever is out there watching over for him as he sees it’s just ten past two. He pulls his headset off and tosses it to the desk before mustering up the last of his remaining strength to stand and stagger to his bed.

~*~

Saturday finds Jared at Joe’s with Sandy and Tom, celebrating Tom’s “A-fucking-plus” on his physics exam and Jared’s already feeling tipsy as he laughs at Sandy’s telling of an encounter with a rather friendly homeless man on campus a couple of days ago.

“Seriously! Where is campus security when you need them?” she huffs and takes another sip of her beer. Jared shakes his head, still chuckling and suddenly there’s a bang as Tom slams his hands down on the small table.

“Shots!” he proclaims, and Jared and Sandy grin, nodding their approval as Tom waives the waitress over.

A shot of tequila and another beer later, Tom has wandered off, and Sandy is staring at Jared intently.

“What?” he asks, paranoid that he’s got something gross on his face, wiping his chin to fight against the feeling.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Mr. Ackles or do I have to ask him?” she asks with an adoring smile, propping her chin on her hand and Jared stares at her dumbly.

“What?” he repeats, she shakes her head at him.

“Baby, it’s so obvious, it hurts me,” she says, and Jared straightens so quickly he almost falls out of his seat.

“Wha? No, Sandy. Jensen’s just been helping me with the audition,” he says quickly, his fingers picking at the label of his beer.

“Jensen?” she asks, her smile turning into a smirk as she nods slowly. “I see….”

Jared groans and drops his head into his hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so,” she laughs, patting him lovingly on the head. “So, have you told him yet, or are you two still doing the dance o’ love?”

Jared rolls his eyes as he sits back up. “Dance o’ love? Sandy. Seriously?”

She just waves him off and sighs. “Have you or haven’t you?” One thing about Sandy, she’s not deflected lightly.

Jared looks over her shoulder at the TV playing in the corner, chews on the inside of his cheek for a minute before moving his gaze back to her. His head is fuzzy, his body warm and he’s with his best friend. Life is pretty awesome, but when he shakes his head and says “Nah,” he feels pretty lost.

And Sandy can tell, it seems, cause she just reaches over and lays her hand over his, squeezing lightly. “Are you going to?”

Jared thinks for a moment and when he comes up blank, he shrugs, “I really don’t know.”

“Well, I think you should,” she tells him, pulling her hand back to take a swig from her bottle. She wipes her mouth with her thumb and at Jared’s questioning furrow of brows, smiles at him, white teeth gleaming. “You aren’t the only one who stares in class, is all I’m sayin’.”

Jared’s eyes widen almost comically. Well, very comically if you ask Sandy because she cracks up and shakes her head at him. “Why are boys always so clueless?” she asks no one in particular, waving a hand in the air for dramatic effect.

Jared is still staring at her and when he blurts out, “He really stares?” Sandy just busts out laughing again, leaving Jared sitting there in his little shocked and happy haze of revelation.

An hour, two more shots of tequila, three more beers and a lap dance from Sandy and Tom later, Jared laughs at his friends as they bust a move in the back of their shared cab. The cabbie gives him a sidelong look as he pulls up in front of Jerome’s and Jared fumbles slightly with the handle before practically falling out of the open door.

“Hey! Jared! Don’t – don’t fall up the stairs man! Could – Might suck. Like a lot.” Tom is laughing so hard Jared can barely make out the words, so he just flicks them the bird and makes it to his feet. He closes the cab door and waves as it drives away, giggling as he sees two perfectly white asses appear out of the rear window of the cab. His friends are crazy.

He manages to follow Tom’s orders though and doesn’t fall as he makes his way up the stairs, but he does take about ten minutes fumbling with his keys before the door to his studio finally opens and he stumbles into the cool apartment. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it to the couch as he passes by it and sits on his bed. He toes off his shoes and lays back, sighing contentedly. The apartment is lit dimly with the lights from the street and Jared watches as shadows play against his ceiling, his mind a swirl of happy, hazy thoughts.

He feels the vibration of his phone before he hears the loud chirp and reaches into his pocket to retrieve it. He has to squint to read the text message and huffs out a laugh as he makes out the “STIL thnk u shuld tel hm,” glowing back at him from Sandy. He lets his arm fall to his side, fingers running idly over the number pads as he lets his thoughts drift to Jensen.

After that third shot, it’d been easy to stop thinking about anything relatively stressful, and wondering if his coach, the only guy he’d ever been interested in, and possibly the most amazing and gorgeous person he’s ever met, was interested back? That’s a little stressful, especially since Jared admires him so much, recognizes his talent and feels such compassion for the things he’s been through in his career, in his life.

He lifts the phone and hits the down arrow, trailing down his contact list until Jensen’s name is highlighted. He’d changed it from Mr. Ackles to Jensen the very same day he told him to drop the formalities. It was really an easy transition for Jared and it made him feel good, feel special, that Jensen would tell him to call him by his first name, like a friend, an equal, not just another student.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, Jared is pressing the CALL button and letting his arm fall, the phone pressed against his ear. It rings four times before he hears Jensen answer.

“Jared? What’s wrong?” Jensen’s voice is sleep-rough, pure grit and it’s like a punch to Jared’s stomach, how the Texas vowels roll thickly off his tongue.

“Nuthin’s wrong,” he says, focusing on the formation of the words, trying not to slur. “’m sorry, Jen,” he says, not even realizing his use of Jensen’s nickname. “Think I’m really kinda drunk and… I just wanted to talk to ya.” He’s wasted, and he knows he’s going to regret this in the morning, along with his hangover, but Jensen just lets out a relieved breath.

“You scared me,” he says quietly, and then, “Why did you want to talk to me, Jared?” and even through his drunkenness, Jared can hear the lowered pitch of his voice, the intent.

“I…” he falters, insecurities taking over, but drunken logic comes into play in Jared’s boggled mind and he figures Sandy’s right, he should tell him, cause if he never says it, Jensen may never know and that would be bad, cause Jared wants him to know. God, he wants him to know so bad and wants him to say it back and… “I like you, Jensen.”

There’s silence for so long that Jared thinks he hung up, but then he hears him sigh, hears a rustle of something as he shifts on the other line. “How drunk are you?”

Jared shakes his head, clutching the cell phone to his ear. “Pretty drunk, Jen.” He raises his free hand and lays it over his eyes.

“Maybe you should get some sleep,” Jensen says, and his voice isn’t angry, it’s more consoling and that makes Jared feels pretty shitty.

“I – I know, I shouldn’t’ve called ya so late. ‘m sorry. But Jen, I really do…And Sandy said I should tell you ‘cause… ‘cause I like ya a lot, and it… it’s messin’ wit my head ‘cause…” He knows he’s rambling, but he can’t seem to stop, hidden beneath the safety of his own hand blinding him to the world, the sound of Jensen’s soft breaths reaching him through the line and he bites down on his lip. “‘Cause I don’t even know if I have a chance with you. And I really wanna have a chance with you, Jen.”

“Jared…” Jensen stops, letting out a sigh and Jared can almost see him running a hand through his short hair, tugging on it. Jared raises his hand and lets it drop to his chest, opens his eyes to the lights playing against the stained drywall and the reality of what he’s doing crashes down on him like a boulder on his lungs. This is his coach, his mentor, the man helping him further his career. Just because he’s taken Jared under his wing doesn’t mean he has feelings for him. Hell, he’s probably straight and thinks Jared’s one of those psychos who form attachments to people over something simple, like a glance, and GOD, what if he is?

“Shit… Jensen…. I – I’m sorry,” he says and quickly hangs up, staring at the phone in horror before throwing it across the room and turning over, burying his face in the pillow. Thankfully, he’s drunk enough that he passes out before he dies of his mortification, but it’s a pretty close call.

~*~

Jared skips Jensen’s class that week, focusing on his other studies. Exams are in two weeks and his core classes are really getting heavy, taking a toll on him and he just can’t face Jensen, not yet. He’s still too embarrassed.

When he tells Sandy about it, she gives him a look of sympathy that almost kills him and he just shakes his head, shrugging before heading to his Lit. class.

The call from Bobby comes on Friday afternoon, as Jared is heading home from his last afternoon class and when he sees the name on the ID, his fingers fumble for a moment before he can actually press the key to answer.

“Hello?” he says, stopping his pace on the sidewalk.

“Jared! Hey, it’s Bobby,” Bobby’s gruff voice sounds enthusiastic and Jared’s heart starts to pump soundly.

“Hey, Bobby…” he fails at the formation of anything resembling coherent, he’s so nervous and he stares at the cracks in the cement at his feet. “What’s up?”

“Well, I’ve got some pretty good news if you’re still interested in Sam,” Bobby says simply, but Jared can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I am! I mean, yes, still interested,” he babbles and Bobby chuckles.

“Well, welcome to the cast kid.”

“Are you serious?” he gasps, unable to hide his excitement and Bobby laughs again.

“As a heart attack. Come on over to my office sometime next week, I’ll have the production schedule for you. You know, rehearsal times and all that. Ok?”

“Yea… Yea, Bobby, sure thing.” Jared is spinning slowly in place, his head spinning along with him. He can’t believe it. He got SAM.

“Alright, kid. See ya next week. Take care of yourself.”

“You, too.”

He stares at his phone for long moments after Bobby hangs up, disbelief and utter elation coursing through him and he can’t believe it, but the proof was right there in that call. He got it. He fucking got it.

His fingers cruise down the names in his contact list and he freezes when he sees Jensen’s name staring back at him. He wants to call him so bad, wants to tell him about Sam, wants to see him and celebrate and…

He folds his fist over his cell and pushes it deep in his jacket pocket. His excitement isn’t completely gone, but it’s definitely been dampened by the fact that he can’t call Jensen, not after what he did, the position he put Jensen in. And what sucks the most? Jensen is the only one he wants to call and tell the good news to.

~*~

Saturday, when his phone rings and he sees Jensen’s name, he hesitates a moment before answering.

“Hello?”

“Jared? It’s Jensen…” Jared closes his eyes at the tentative, almost hurt sound to Jensen’s voice and he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Hey…” he says, at a loss for what to say. What can he say in addition to what his stupid, drunk ass said last weekend anyways?

“I – Where have you been?” The concern in Jensen’s voice makes Jared’s gut twist and he sits down on his couch, playing with a loose thread in the arm as he shakes his head.

“School’s been kickin’ my ass,” he says truthfully, but leaves out the whole I’m too embarrassed to face you, so please just leave me alone to wallow in my humiliation for a bit longer.

Jensen is quiet for a few moments, but when he finally speaks, his voice sounds stronger, happier. “Bobby told me you accepted the offer to play Sam.”

Jared can’t help but smile. Sam, the role of a life-time, especially for a kid still in college, and all because of Jensen. “I wouldn’t have gotten it if it weren’t for you,” he says honestly, and his voice almost wavers, almost.

“You would have,” Jensen says matter-of-factly. “You’re an amazing actor, Jared. I just… Got you to the front of the line, is all.” The smile in his voice is more definite now, and his voice is smooth as it rolls through Jared. He closes his eyes and his chest hurts as he realizes just how far down the rabbit hole he’s actually fallen for Jensen, and it really doesn’t surprise him as much as it makes him sad, knowing it’s an unrequited emotion.

“Thank you.”

There’s no sound for a beat and he hears Jensen sigh. “Don’t thank me, Jared. You earned this… Your Sam… He’s…” Jensen trails off and when he finishes, his voice is soft. “He’s perfect.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jared doesn’t know what to do. He feels like he’s lost something, but he really never had anything to lose, and Jensen is still his friend, still his coach. He’s just not used to being on this end of a crush, or love, or whatever the hell it is he’s feeling. He’s always been too self-involved to really get hung up on anyone like this, but there is something about Jensen, and he can’t shake himself out of it. He admires Jensen, and after seeing the pained look in his eyes when he told Jared about Jason and the accident, all Jared wanted to do was wrap him in his arms and make it all go away.

He’s never actually cared that much about anyone other than his family members, and Sandy. But that’s because they’ve been with him his whole life, and they’re his family. Never anything like this, never wanted anyone like this.

And he is really starting to realize how much it sucks.

It literally takes sixteen text messages from Sandy urging him on to get him to walk to the small building that houses Jensen’s class on Monday night. He’s been succeeding pretty well with the whole distraction thing since his conversation with Jensen on Saturday, diving head first into his studies and his script. Doesn’t want to think about how neither of them mentioned his drunken phone call, doesn’t want to think about Jensen letting him down easy by saying nothing at all.

“Holy shit, he lives!” Tom announces when Jared walks into the classroom and he shoots him a smirk before plopping down in his seat beside Sandy. She shoots him a mile-long grin and squeezes his hand, sliding a flyer to him as she bounces in her seat.

“I’m trying out for The Vagina Monologues,” she says happily and Jared just kind of stares at her.

“Really?” he asks incredulously and she just nods furiously.

“Tom got me an audition.”

And at the mention of his name, Tom slides in behind Sandy, wrapping an arm around her as he grins at Jared. “I am the man,” he says proudly and Sandy simply turns her head and beams at him.

Jared watches them, his eyes flicking back and forth between them. “Wait a minute…” he says as he eyes them. “What’s goin’ on here?” Sandy giggles and lays her head on Tom’s shoulder and Jared’s eyes go wide in his skull. “But I thought you were gay!” Jared says a bit too loudly and slaps a hand over his mouth as Tom laughs.

“Bisexual, Jared. You, of all people, should know there’s always someone outside of the preferred gender that can catch your eye,” Tom tells him wisely, his white teeth shining as he smiles at him and Jared just shakes his head, can’t believe it.

“You told him?” he asks Sandy but there’s no real heat in his words. He likes and trusts Tom. If anything, the guy can definitely keep a secret, because hello, bisexual. That, and he’s pretty much accepted defeat over the whole thing anyway.

Sandy looks guilty for a moment before nodding, her hair falling over Tom’s shoulder. “I just… I wanted to help and asked Tom what he thought… That’s kinda how this got started,” she tells him, waving a hand between the two of them.

Jared cocks a brow curiously and Tom answers the unasked question. “She said that she’d never imagined you with a guy before,” Tom says simply. “Told her it’s not about what the person’s packing sometimes, it’s just about the person.”

And yea, that makes a lot of sense. How else would it have been so easy for Jared to fall for his coach when he’d never really ever considered anything in the whole “gay love/sex” area seriously before? Wasn’t about anything other than the person inside. “I’m happy for you guys,” he tells them with a smile, and he means it. Sandy is his best friend and Tom’s a good guy and if they make each other happy, that’s the most awesome thing in the world.

“I, uh, I’m sorry about… you know,” Tom says and his eyes are showing sympathy now and Jared feels the bile rise in his throat.

He waves a hand at them. “Don’t worry about it. We talked… this weekend, he called, said he’d heard I got Sam and… it was ok. We didn’t mention it.”

His friends nod in understanding and just as Sandy is opening her mouth to say something in reply, the door to the classroom opens and they all turn to see Jensen walk in and Jared feels his stomach jump into his throat.

Jensen is dressed in a pair of jeans, small holes worn in the knees. He has on an old and worn leather jacket that looks like it’s had decades of use and would be soft to the touch. His hair is spiked haphazardly and his glasses are gone, Jared assuming replaced with contacts. He looks disheveled, a thin coating of stubble covering his jaw, a necklace with an odd charm hanging from his neck. He’s an absolutely gorgeous spectacle and every eye is trained on him as he shrugs out of the jacket to reveal a grey hurley shirt clinging to every inch of his shoulders and chest.

He opens his briefcase, pulling out a stack of papers and looks up, lets his eyes roam across his class again before smiling. “What?” he asks and several people laugh.

“Mr. Ackles, you look hot,” Alona announces from her seat across the room and Jared bites his lip as he sees the slight blush rise across the tops of Jensen’s cheeks.

“Thanks,” their coach mumbles and he clicks his case closed, holding the stack of papers in his hand. “We’re going to do an interactive lesson today, guys,” he says nonchalantly and waves the pile of scripts.

Jensen starts passing out the pages, and when he gets to Jared’s desk he pauses, tilts his head to the side just slightly as he whispers, “I’m glad you came back.” He taps his fingers over the pages on Jared’s desk but Jared can’t look away from the soft green eyes staring down at him.

Jared can feel the blush rising on the back of his neck but Jensen is already gone, passing out the pages and it’s then that Jared looks down, sees the script lying in front of him. His eyes fly to Jensen in surprise and Jensen is at the other end of the room, looking over at him with a small, knowing smirk.

“Before we begin, I’d like all of us to give our congratulations to Jared, for his recent casting in the production of Supernatural,” Jensen says when he reaches the front of the class once again and the small group erupts in applause and cat-calls. It’s a tradition, since the beginning of term, whenever a member of the class is cast, they all show their support, but Jared’s never been on the receiving end of the applause and shifts uncomfortably, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

“You go, boy,” Sandy leans over and says, patting his shoulder affectionately with a grin and he laughs at her. He smiles up at the rest of his classmates and nods, thanks them.

“As most of you know, it’s a pretty big production,” Jensen continues once the noise dies down. “What most of you don’t know, is that I was personally involved with the creation of the Supernatural script, so it hold a bit of… sentiment for me,” he says, his eyes glancing at Jared for a moment before he holds up the pages. “And as you can see, tonight, we’re going to work on an excerpt from it.”

The sound of rustling pages fills the air as everyone looks down at their pages, but Jared doesn’t bother. He knows the script by heart by now and he just looks at Jensen, realizing for the first time why he’s dressed the way he’s dressed.

“Dean,” he mouths the name as soon as he catches Jensen’s eyes and Jensen smirks back at him, giving a small nod. Jared’s heart is pumping faster and he bites his lip, his own head nodding as he continues to study the way Jensen fits into Dean’s clothes.

“I’ll be playing the character Dean, and of course, Jared will be Sam. The rest of you, your character assignments are marked at the top of your scripts, your lines highlighted. The purpose of this exercise is to show you what it is like to be a part of a high energy, multi-character scene on stage. It’s a lot different than trading dialogue. There are intricacies involved that you have to experience to understand and that is the purpose of this exercise.” Jensen paces in front of the class as he speaks, all eyes now trained on him once again.

“We have to learn to feed off of each other, be in tune with one another, even if our stage actions are completely unrelated. To appear real, to appear as if this is really happening, we have to know what is going on around us at all times, be cognizant of where we’re standing, how the lighting is placed, as well as moving in synch with one another, like a choreographed dance. Does that make sense?”

Everyone nods and Jensen smiles. “Good. Please, take a few minutes to get familiar with your lines, but remember, you have to know what the other characters are doing at the same time, so keep that in mind as you read. You’re welcome to take a break if you need to, get something to drink, whatever. We’ll start in twenty.”

Jared watches as some of the class stands, heads out of the room while others stare down intently at their scripts. He’s excited at the idea of working a scene from Supernatural, but at the same time, he’s really surprised. He slides out of his seat and walks to Jensen’s desk, where his coach is now sitting, reading over something in front of him.

“Hey…” he says, and Jensen’s head comes up, eyes blinking up at Jared and he can’t get used to the way he looks without his glasses.

Jensen smiles almost immediately. “Surprise,” he says softly and Jared huffs a laugh as Jensen stands. “Come on, I need something to drink.”

Jared shrugs and can’t help the giddy feeling in his stomach as he follows Jensen. When he glances over his shoulder, he sees Sandy and Tom bent over, whispering, their eyes watching them and Sandy smiles at him. He shakes his head and turns forward, stepping out of the classroom behind Jensen.

“Jared, there’s something I’ve wanted to say, but…” Jensen shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looks over at Jared as he keeps pace with him. “I wanted to wait until we were face to face, and seeing as how you haven’t shown up for class…” He gives Jared a sidelong glance and smirks and Jared can’t help the blush warming his cheeks.

“Yea… I, uh, kinda couldn’t stop feeling like an idiot long enough to get here,” he says, still feeling like an idiot as they mention that night, however vaguely, for the first time. Jensen navigates them toward a small teacher’s lounge and opens the door. Jared steps through, feeling too tall and awkward in the silence of the small room.

Jensen closes the door and looks at Jared, really looks at him and Jared shifts, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Jensen’s naked eyes. “I feel like I owe you an explanation,” Jensen says quietly and Jared quirks a brow, confused.

Jensen steps by him to walk to the small counter lining the back of the room. He turns and hops up on the counter, hands clasped and resting between his jean clad thighs. “It’s about Supernatural,” he begins as Jared steps forward. He sits back, letting his head rest on the cabinet behind him. “You see… Jason, the friend of mine I told you about, the… the original Sam. He…” Jensen closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again, looking at Jared with a shy hesitance that doesn’t look right on his face, reminds Jared of the first time he mentioned Jason. “Jason was my boyfriend,” he finally confesses and Jared’s heart skips. “After he died…” he stops and bites his lip. “I haven’t stepped foot on stage since his accident. And with all of this, the production and everything… I’ve been a little… messed up, I guess.”

Jared moves forward, resting back against the counter a few feet away from Jensen and moves his eyes to the floor. He doesn’t know what to say, but he really isn’t surprised. He had made assumptions, had an inkling of an idea about Jensen’s relationship with Jason.

“It was Chris that pointed it out to me, that you resembled him so much… but honestly, that hadn’t even crossed my mind when I asked you to audition.” Jensen’s voice sounds guilty, like he’s ashamed for comparing Jared to his lover. He looks up and his eyes are wide and bright, seeming to plead with Jared to believe him when he says, “I honestly asked you because you’re an unbelievable actor, Jared.” Jensen plays with his hands, rubs his palms down his thighs nervously and Jared nods, pressing him to continue. “I – I called Bobby… and we had a real long talk. He told me that they’d decided to offer you the part of Sam, and… I just started thinking, ya know? How… how I haven’t been able to bring myself to go back on stage, how I’ve been like just a miniscule version of myself since the accident, and,” Jensen takes a deep breath and looks up at Jared, a small smile sliding into place.

“And then you called me that night… and it threw me. Cause, I mean, who wouldn’t be attracted to you?” he laughs and Jared grins, his stomach tight and doing flip flops and he shifts his weight against the counter. He has no idea where this is going, but fear is warring with anticipation and the end result is kind of nauseating, but he stills, showing his eagerness for Jensen to continue with his eyes. “It threw me though, because for one, I’d always assumed you were straight and had something going on with Sandy, but also because ever since Chris said that shit about you looking like Jason, I’d been forcing myself to not think about you like that, because I didn’t want to be that guy, you know? The one who falls for an idea, a memory…”

Jared nods as a feeling of somber finality settles in his gut. This is the let down speech he’d been dreading so much. “Yeah…” He stares at the tiled floor, his hair tickling the sides of his face a little as he nods.

“But the reality is, you’re nothing like Jason.” Jensen doesn’t seem to hear him, continues on as if he’s forcing himself to say the words. “You’re absolutely the complete opposite of him, even the way you play Sam and it’s… Jared.”

There’s something in his tone that makes Jared look up, hesitantly, but still hopefully and his head is spinning with how this conversation keeps fucking with his emotions. He swallows when he sees Jensen staring at him, his jaw clenched tight. “You’re nothing like him, but I… You asked if you had a chance with me, and if you still want it, I really wanna try…”

The look of questioning in Jensen’s eyes stumps Jared and his tongue is thick and fat in his mouth and it won’t cooperate as he tries to say something. He shakes his head to try and clear it and his ears are ringing with a buzz from the lights above them and Jensen is still looking at him and…

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s standing in front of Jensen, his breath coming out labored and Jensen is looking up at him, hope and fear swimming in the green sea of his beautiful eyes and before he can lose his nerve, Jared bends down to close the short distance between them.

Jared can feel the warmth of Jensen’s mouth against his as hands wrap around his waist to pull him closer, between Jensen’s spread legs on the counter. His hands come up, cupping either side of Jensen’s stubbled jaw and it feels new, exciting, to feel the roughness of the skin where he’s used to feeling smoothness. Jensen’s lips are soft, though, and inviting and even though it doesn’t go any further than tasting kisses, their lips moving against each other, pressing and pulling apart and repeating, simply feeling each other, Jared feels warmth so deep in his chest that it makes him want to never stop.

Jensen is the one who pulls away first, resting his forehead against Jared’s, his breath quiet between them. “I haven’t done this in a long time, Jared…” he whispers and Jared can’t help but laugh.

“This is an absolute first for me,” he confesses and when Jensen pulls away slightly to look at him, he runs his thumb across the prickly hair of his jaw. “Doesn’t matter, though…” he says, watching his own hand as it trails down Jensen’s neck before settling on his shoulder. He looks back up to meet Jensen’s eyes. “I’ve wanted this for so long now, I can’t even remember if I ever questioned it anymore.”

His confession isn’t lost on Jensen and he feels himself pulled forward again, the gentle press of Jensen’s mouth against his and he sighs contentedly, all of the weight of the last few months, and especially the last few weeks, finally seeping out of him and just fading away to be replaced with the warmth of Jensen’s mouth, his hands.

When Jensen pulls away this time, it’s definitely reluctantly and he smiles at Jared, soft and intimately and Jared feels that warmth in his stomach flare and flow through the rest of him. “We gotta get back to class,” Jensen says and Jared groans, dropping his head onto Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen just laughs and brings a hand up to pat him on the back. “I’d like to continue this though…” he whispers close to Jared’s ear and Jared just groans again before pushing himself away.

“You’re evil. Doing this before we have to work a scene,” he says lightly, smoothing his shirt and Jensen shoots him a smirk.

“Might wanna get used to it,” he says as he pushes himself from the counter, landing soundly on his feet and shrugging his shoulders to readjust his own shirt.

“Oh?” Jared quips with a grin as he follows Jensen to the door, his heart and head feeling light.

He’s imagining quiet sessions like this before class, secret glances, but then Jensen glances over his shoulder at him and grins wildly, a look of pure mischief and determination in his eyes as he says, “Called Bobby yesterday. Guess who’s playin’ your big brother.”

Jared stops and stares before scoffing. “You’re unbelievable.”

Jensen nods quickly and turns, pushing open the door leading to the hallway, “Better believe it, Sammy.”

When they get back to the class, everyone has already returned to their seats and Jared can’t help but feel the glances in their direction. Jensen is so composed, though, if he didn’t know from actually being there, he would’ve never guessed what they’d just been up to. He schools his features as best he can, but Sandy can already read him better than anyone and she is grinning maniacally at him, hitting Tom’s arm and pointing at him as he walks slowly to his seat.

“What’d he say?” she whispers as soon as he’s seated and he turns his head to shield his face from the rest of the class, and Jensen. All he does is grin and she’s practically bouncing out of her seat before catching herself and putting a finger over her lips and then bouncing again.

“Alright, everyone,” Jensen’s voice is back in coach-mode, commanding their attention and everyone turns toward him to see him shrugging on Dean’s jacket. “You have your parts down by now, I hope, so let’s take our places.”

There’s a flurry of activity as everyone gets to their feet. Chad L. is helping Mr. Ackles move his desk to the far wall, the sound of its legs scratching the tile echoing over the murmuring voices and Jared stands in the center, watching as everyone spreads around them.

The scene is from the second act, a confrontation between the brothers and a pack of vampires led by a suave and enigmatic man who is in search of a magical weapon that Sam and Dean have acquired.

Jensen takes his place beside Jared as everyone gets quiet. The pack of vampires are hungry for action, but they don’t act, wait for their leader to command them. Jensen aptly picked Tom to play the leader, Sandy hovering just a few steps behind him, as his mate. The other ten students surround them, their features varying from interested to angry to downright insane (that would be Chad M.).

“Where is it?” Tom asks, and Jensen takes a protective step in front of Jared, shielding him.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he says, voice low but casual, but his shoulders are straight as he covers the space between his brother and the vampire.

“Don’t play coy with us, you meatbag,” Sandy hisses and Tom raises a hand to silence her.

Jared watches with wide eyes as Tom tilts his head to the side and studies them with a smile so evil it actually makes Jared a little anxious. His eyes roam up and down the brothers’ figures before he straightens. “Oh, I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” he says resignedly before shrugging. “Have fun,” he says to his fellow vampires before turning and stepping toward Sandy, putting an arm around her shoulder and leading her away through the crowd.

The rest of the scene is almost all physical, as the vampires close in on the brothers. The class does well in adhering to their roles, their stage directions, and Jared can feel himself in Sam’s shoes as he and Jensen turn in a circle, back to back, hands in front of them in a defensive stance. Chad literally snarls in Jared’s face, his spit landing on Jared’s face and it’s disgusting but Jared doesn’t break character.

And then all hell breaks loose as the vampires attack and Sam and Dean fight them off. It’s not perfect, but Jared can see why Jensen picked this scene for the lesson. Just by the stage directions alone, the class is actively using every sense they have to detect their cues and when Dean “kills” the last vampire, Mike falls to the floor in a heap, eyes closing as he sprawls half on top of Alona’s still form. Jensen looks at Jared, shrugging his shoulders and resettling his jacket.

“Fuckin’ vampires,” Dean huffs out, looking down disgusted at the bodies surrounding them and Jared nods, wiping a hand across his cheek to clear it of the “blood” from the fight.

The end of the scene is simply Sam and Dean walking from stage, so Jensen and Jared step over the bodies carefully as they make their way to the far wall. When they reach it, Jensen claps his hands together and suddenly Dean is gone and he’s smiling widely at the class.

“That was really good, guys,” he says proudly as his students make their way to their feet. Tom and Sandy are already back in their seats, having exited the scene early on, and Jared is all smiles as he makes his way toward them. The class is buzzing from a job well done, each of them riding on the high from the scene but Jared can’t keep his eyes off Jensen, who’s looking back at him, his smile just as wide.


	5. Chapter 5

Life is awesome for Jared, even as he battles with his finals before the winter break. He’s got a date with Jensen on Saturday night and they’ve talked almost every day since their conversation in the teacher’s lounge. It’s only been a few days, but it feels good, feels right and Jared can’t seem to get enough of him.

Official rehearsals for Supernatural start the first week of January, three weeks away. Jared’s got three months left on his contract with the hotline, but Tom quickly volunteers to sign back on once the semester’s over and Jared laughs when Sandy looks at her boyfriend with wide eyes.

“You… Phone sex, really?” she asks and Tom shrugs.

“It’s just acting,” he says, sharing a grin with Jared before turning back to look at her, obviously surprised by the look on her face.

“That’s really hot,” she says breathily and Jared can’t contain the burst of laughter that escapes him, even as Tom’s staring at her like she’s grown a second head.

He doesn’t really think he’ll miss the job, and with the pay he’s going to be getting once the show opens, he’s not worried about paying the bills. He’s made quite a lot working on the hotline, surprisingly enough, and he can survive until opening night, at least.

He makes a point to let his regular customers know that he’s not going to be around much longer, makes sure to give them Tom’s character name, Clark, and it’s business as usual. He wonders briefly about J.R., if he’ll call before tomorrow night, his last night on the phones but his thoughts are dismissed when an operator prompts him that he has another caller.

~*~

When Saturday rolls around, Jared feels like a new man. He sleeps in through the day, and when he awakes he collects all of his textbooks and puts them on his bookshelf, where all but the Mainstream Theatrics text will probably remain indefinitely and lets out a relieved breath that the semester is finally over. He knows it hasn’t been, but the last month and a half feel like they’ve taken a lifetime to get through and the idea of a break for a couple of weeks sounds like heaven, especially with the newfound development with Jensen.

He’s stepping out of the bathroom when he hears his phone chirping and he steps over to the bed, clutching the towel around his waist with one hand while plucking the phone from the nightstand with the other.

It’s a text from Sandy’s number. “I’ll give you a crash course in buttsex if you tell me Sandy’s dirtiest secret. – Tom”

Jared laughs and tucks the end of the towel secure around his waist before typing in a response. “I’m sure I can figure it out. Thanks, tho. And Sandy doesn’t have any dirty secrets. She always shares :)”

He throws the phone down and pulls on a pair of boxers and has one foot in his jeans when the phone chirps again. He picks it up, expecting another text from Tom or Sandy but instead, it’s from Jensen, “Chris drank all of my beer :( Think I should put Nair in his herbal shampoo?”

Jared hikes up his jeans and fastens them before replying, “I wouldn’t recommend it. Chris kinda scares me. What’s for dinner?” He can’t help the grin that seems stuck on his face as he hits send. He slips the phone in his pocket and pulls on a black button up shirt, staring at himself in the mirror next to his bed. His hair is a wet mess, but he looks happy, and he’s satisfied with his attire. Jensen has seen him looking his worst so making an impression isn’t really a big deal. He’s just looking forward to time alone with him. Jensen had told him Chris was leaving for an out of town show for the weekend, so they had the place all to themselves.

Maybe Jared should’ve taken Tom up on that offer.

When his phone chirps again, he bites his lip as he fishes it out of his pocket to suppress his grin, “You’ll find out when you get here. Which better be soon, btw.”

Jared replies with a quick, “Leaving now.” before plopping down on his bed to put on his shoes. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he picks his coat up from the back of the couch and leaves his apartment, anticipation thrumming quite nicely through his veins.

He hails a cab just outside of Jerome’s and his leg won’t stop bouncing the entire drive. It only takes about ten minutes by cab and he gets out close to Jensen’s apartment, stopping inside a mom ‘n pop store to fetch a case of beer. The girl behind the counter tries to flirt with him and he smiles back at her, making her blush before he walks quickly out of the store and down the block.

Jensen doesn’t even bother coming on the intercom when he hits the button, just buzzes him in and Jared finds the door open about an inch when he gets to Jensen’s second floor apartment. He steps inside, case held firmly in his hand as he looks around to see no sign of Jensen.

There’s music playing softly from the entertainment center in the living room, an old Aerosmith album, the scent of something cooking and wow, that smells good. Jared closes the door behind him, flipping the lock before walking to the kitchen.

Jensen is facing the counter, two pots simmering on the stove next to him, and he’s humming softly along to “Rag Doll,” his hips moving just a little bit to the beat of the song and Jared can make out the soft tap of a knife. Jared doesn’t want to startle him, cause he’d really hate to ruin their first date with a trip to the ER because Jensen cut his finger off or something, so he just stands there, watching in amusement as Jensen hums louder, starts scatting along with Steven Tyler, hips swaying a little bit more as he gets into it.

When Jensen turns around and shouts loudly, a hand going to his heart, Jared laughs so hard his stomach hurts. “Asshole,” Jensen huffs, smacking Jared on the chest, his own chest heaving as he tries to calm himself from the startle.

“I didn’t wanna scare you while you were cuttin’, what is that? Zucchini?” Jared peers over Jensen’s shoulder, his grin still in place as he eyes the various vegetables cut and mixed in a bowl beside a warming skillet.

“You seriously just almost gave me a heart attack,” Jensen tells him as he takes the case of beer from his hand. He’s wearing his contacts again, his eyes bright and happy as he grins, turning toward the refrigerator.

Jared comes up behind him as he bends to put the case in the fridge, his hands folding around Jensen’s slim hips. Jensen straightens, leans his back into Jared, lets Jared nuzzle his neck. “Sorry,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss against Jensen’s pulse.

Jensen hums and they just stand there for a minute before Jensen turns, palms splayed on Jared’s coat over his chest. “Go take off your jacket, let me finish up.”

Jared nods and drops a quick kiss to Jensen’s lips and Jensen smiles before biting his lip and turning back to the stove. Jared does as he’s told and heads into the living room, shedding his jacket and hanging it beside one of Jensen’s coats on the small pegs by the front door before planting himself on the couch.

He didn’t get a real good look at what Jensen was preparing, but it smells good and he slept through breakfast and lunch, so by the time he feels Jensen’s hands on his shoulders, his voice telling him to get his ass up cause dinner’s ready, he’s about ready to eat his weight in lard just to get something on his stomach.

Dinner, though, is nothing like lard and everything like amazing. They sit at the small dining room table and Jared’s eyes are about to pop out of his head at good it smells and looks. There’s grilled chicken, already sliced with some type of orange/brown sauce dribbled over it, a huge portion of mixed vegetables (and yes, that was zucchini), and in the center of the table is honest-to-goodness freshly baked Italian bread.

Jared’s first love is acting, but food is definitely a close second and when he looks up at Jensen from his seat across from him and blurts out “Marry me,” Jensen laughs and chucks a balled up napkin at him. They dive right in and Jared practically moans with how good everything tastes.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” he asks in disbelief after tasting the chicken, the sauce adding a tangy flavor that seems familiar but Jared can’t place it.

Jensen just shrugs and smiles. “Went through a cooking spell couple years ago,” he says, and Jared doesn’t miss the blush creeping across his cheeks. “I watched a lot of Rachel Ray,” he confesses and Jared just grins around his mouthful of vegetables.

They eat predominantly in silence, mostly because Jared doesn’t want to stop eating long enough to speak, and also because they’re Texas boys and their mommas taught them not to talk with their mouths full. Soon though, Jared’s plate is empty, his stomach more than satisfied and he just watches as Jensen stabs through a piece of squash and pops it in his mouth.

Jensen quirks a brow at him when he catches him staring and Jared just bites his lip, eyes moving to watch Jensen’s mouth as he chews slowly around his food. Amazing how he’d never thought about how sexy watching someone eat could be, but then again, most of anything Jensen does is sexy in Jared’s book and when his eyes twitch back up to Jensen’s, he sees the amusement dancing behind his green eyes.

When Jensen’s done, Jared helps him clean up. Jensen wraps the small plate of leftovers while Jared loads the dishwasher and soon, everything is done and they grab a couple of beers and head into the living room to watch a movie.

They’d decided earlier in the week that, in the spirit of things, they had to watch a scary movie, and Jared plops down on the couch, spreading an arm over the back and kicking off his shoes as Jensen changes the discs in his DVD player. Jensen smirks when he stands, hitting the switch for the main light and they’re in total darkness for half a second before the flat screen lights up, the DVD menu for Nightmare on Elm Street flickering to life with a scream.

Jensen settles down beside Jared and Jared shifts, lets Jensen get comfortable before dropping his arm just barely off of the couch, his fingers brushing Jensen’s shoulder. He feels Jensen settle more firmly into his side before aiming the remote at the screen and Jared can’t help but smile for about the billionth time since he got there.

They watch the movie in silence, snuggled up close. Jared’s arm eventually wraps around Jensen when Jensen moves to rest his head on Jared’s shoulder and it’s quiet and comfortable, even with all the screaming and Nancy’s increasing craziness on screen.

When Jensen tilts his head to look at Jared and Jared looks down, the epic battle between Nancy and Freddy is forgotten as Jensen leans up to close the distance between them.

Jared hums as he feels Jensen’s tongue trace the line of his lips, pulls him up and closer as he parts his mouth, tongue reaching out to meet him half way. It’s slow and lazy, Jensen turning until they’re chest to chest, Jared’s arms wrapping around to support him, maneuver him closer. Jensen’s hand is pressed against Jared’s heart, his other hand pushing slowly through Jared’s hair, trailing down his jaw.

Jared chases Jensen’s tongue with his own, twining them together as he tries to memorize the taste of Jensen’s mouth, the feel of him around him. Jensen groans as Jared bites down lightly on his bottom lip and tugs. He relinquishes his hold and Jensen seizes his mouth.

This kiss isn’t slow and lazy, that’s for sure, and as Jensen climbs up to straddle his lap, Jared can already feel his half hard cock twitch as the material of his jeans shift with the added weight. Jensen’s kissing him like he’s oxygen while Jared feels lightheaded from a lack of it and he slides his hands down Jensen’s back, grips his hips and gasps into Jensen’s mouth as he feels Jensen push down.

“Oh, Christ,” he pants against Jensen’s mouth and Jensen’s lips are moving now, kissing and licking the skin of his jaw, his neck. “Jen… ah, fuck,” Jared squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as the blood rushes to his cock when Jensen’s teeth bite down at his jugular. His skin feels too tight and he’s too warm and it feels so fucking good as Jensen starts grinding down in a slow rhythm.

The sound of Jensen’s gasp by his ear has Jared tightening his fingers into those slim hips and he arches up just as Jensen pushes down and they both moan at the contact. “Oh, fuck… Jay,” Jensen groans and Jared’s eyes fly open and he stills, his heart doing a tap dance in his chest.

Jensen senses it and he stops, pulling away to look at him. “What’s wrong?” he asks and Jared looks up at him, his mind running faster than a cheetah on the prowl as something slip slides into place and his eyes are wide, disbelieving but…

“What did you just call me?” Jared asks carefully and Jensen squints, like he’s trying to remember.

It all makes sense when he sees the flash of something in Jensen’s eyes and he goes slack jawed for a minute before he lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “What? I – It’s just a nickname. I won’t – I mean, if you don’t like it…” Jensen says, and his expression shows clearly how confused he is.

Jared shakes his head and looks up, meets Jensen’s eyes and, taking a deep breath, he asks, “Anyone ever call you J.R., Jen?”

Jensen’s eyes grow wider than Jared thought possible and he tries to pull away but Jared doesn’t relinquish his hold and Jensen stops wriggling, stares down at Jared in shock. “Are – You – What?”

Jared grins and rubs a circle over the jut of Jensen’s hipbone. “You are, aren’t you? You’re J.R.” Jared says with conviction and he knows he’s right just by the look on Jensen’s face, a mix of humiliation, heat and shock that could only be the result of knowing exactly what Jared is talking about.

“You’re… Jay?” Jensen finally squeaks out and Jared bites his lip, his smirk barely contained as he nods and Jensen groans, his head falling to rest of Jared’s shoulder. “This is so fucking embarrassing,” he mutters and Jared laughs.

He rubs his hand up and down Jensen’s back, the whole situation suddenly hilarious and he just takes it all in for a moment before explaining, “I worked the phones for a few months, to make some quick money… I can’t believe this.”

“You can’t believe this? I’m the one who paid to jerk off to your filthy mouth,” Jensen says into the material of Jared shirt and he laughs again.

“Hey, you weren’t the only one,” he confesses and that gets Jensen’s attention. He sits up and looks at Jared questioningly and it’s Jared’s turn to blush as he runs a hand through his hair. “I kinda… um… well, you know,” he says and makes the universal sign for jacking off.

“So?” Jensen says, and there’s this look of duh written on his face that has Jared straightening.

“No, I didn’t – I mean,” he rambles before stopping, steeling himself and then meeting Jensen’s gaze with his own. “Only with J.R.,” he explains. “His voice, he… he reminded me of you.”

Realization dawns on Jensen’s face and Jared watches through the darkness of the room as his eyes grow heated, can feel Jensen’s cock twitching against his lap. “He reminded you of me? All those things you said? You were thinkin’ of me?” his voice is thoughtful and god, so deep, and Jared’s dick, which had softened a bit with all the dialogue, has suddenly taken interest again and is filling with blood so fast, it’s making him dizzy.

“Yeah,” he confesses as all of those images from his calls with J.R. flood his mind. He shifts under Jensen, hands falling to mold over the perfectly sculpted globes of his ass and he pulls Jensen down into him. Jensen gasps loudly and Jared stares up at him, knowing his eyes are showing every dirty thought he’s had in the last two months, knows Jensen remembers when he sees his pupils blow impossibly wide. “Thought of you every time, Jen. Every fucking time,” he growls out, and he doesn’t even recognize his own voice, can’t believe he’s saying this, but then their mouths are together again, both of them moaning as they struggle to get closer, to crawl into the other’s skin.

It’s amazing, how Jensen molds perfectly to him, the feel of his hard body under Jared’s hands, so unlike the soft curves he’s used to. Jensen’s hands are everywhere, in his hair, caressing his face, spanning across his chest and roaming over his shoulders and Jared’s are just as curious to touch. He’s trying to take it all in, his senses overloaded with Jensen, Jensen, Jen, his taste, his smell, the way he feels and moans when Jared pinches a nipple through the thin material of his shirt.

“Off,” Jensen mumbles against Jared’s mouth as his hands work quickly on the fastenings of his button-down and Jared leans forward, pulling away after Jensen unlatches the second button to pull it over his head. He tosses the material and watches as Jensen works the buttons of his own shirt quickly, shrugging out of it. His eyes follow the movement of Jensen’s shoulders, the muscles of his arms, see the faint markings of freckles covering the solid flesh and he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life.

Then, they’re kissing again, hands pulling, gripping, exploring and taking in every inch of skin they can get ahold of and Jensen ruts down against Jared once again, both of them panting out harsh breaths as Jensen’s hands push through Jared’s hair, his tongue licking into Jared’s mouth with fevered hunger. Jared’s heart is slamming against the inside of his chest almost in time with each of Jensen’s thrusts and he whimpers into Jensen’s mouth as his fingers dig and drag down the flesh of Jensen’s back.

Jensen pulls away and Jared tries to pull him back until he sees Jensen moving to lie back on the couch, his hands working open the button of his jeans and Jared’s on top of him in an instant, knocking his hands away and pulling the zipper down as his lips latch down on a perked nipple, Jensen’s moans pushing out any insecurities he has about this being his first time with a guy. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters except for the fact that Jensen is laid out for him, just like he told him he wanted, his legs twisting to help as Jared pushes down his jeans, his boxers as he slurps and sucks on his chest, lips moving up to nip at Jensen’s collarbone as he feels Jensen’s hands working to get his jeans open.

“Jay…” Jensen pleads, his fingers fumbling over the zipper and Jared sits up and stops, can’t help but stare at the sight in front of him. Jensen’s chest is rising and falling quickly, his body flushed as pink as his swollen lips, his thick and ready cock raised and bobbing against his stomach. Jensen’s legs shift and Jared’s eyes widen as Jensen raises his knee, letting it fall against the back of the couch as his other leg drops off of the couch entirely, opening himself up, displaying himself for Jared and holy fuck, that really is better than any fantasy he could’ve come up with. His hands make quick work of his jeans and he stands, pushing them down with his boxers and kicking them away before he settles on top of Jensen, their eyes locked as Jared lines them up, slides his cock in beside Jensen’s and pushes forward just slightly.

Jensen gasps below him and Jared bites his lip, his eyes tracking everything he can of Jensen’s face, memorizing the freckles splayed across his skin, the way his eyes roll back slightly when he pulls back, the way his teeth gleam in the dim light as he pants. He sets a slow rhythm and it feels so fucking good, unlike anything he’s ever imagined, the heat and thickness of Jensen’s cock rubbing against his with every smooth thrust forward, the way they fit together so perfectly, the way Jensen’s fingers dig into the flesh of Jared’s biceps as he starts to tremble beneath him, drops of wet from their cocks merging and slipping in between them.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Jared pants out, unable to do anything but watch the pleasure flash in Jensen’s eyes as he continues his pace.

“Ah, god… Jared,” Jensen’s eyes are closed, his teeth biting into his lip so hard Jared thinks he’ll break the skin. He lowers his mouth to Jensen’s, licks at the bruised lip until Jensen lets him in, sucks on his tongue and Jared groans as he feels Jensen press up into his thrust, and he increases his pace.

Jared’s eyes falls closed as he gets lost in the sensation of Jensen’s mouth, his cock, his body and warmth surrounding him, taking him in. He can feel the beginnings of his orgasm as they coil in his stomach, pushes forward faster and Jensen is moaning louder, their kissing forgotten in favor of just breathing in each other’s breath as they work together and against each other.

“Jen… I’m gonna….” Jared chokes out and before he can finish, he can feel the warmth of Jensen’s come as it spurts between them, hears the choked off gasp from his lover and suddenly Jared’s body burns hot, vision going white behind his eyelids as he comes.

“Oh, god,” he practically wails as he feels his cock pulse against Jensen’s, his hips stuttering as the intense waves seem to hit him from all angles over and over until he’s breathless, arms quivering as they strain to support his weight.

When he opens his eyes he sees Jensen staring up at him, panting, sated and content and Jared lets himself fall to his elbows, careful not to crush Jensen with his weight. “Holy shit,” he laughs into the crook of Jensen’s neck and Jensen chuckles as he brings a hand to his back, settling on his shoulder blade.

“Yeah…” Jensen breathes. They rest like that for long moments, both drifting aimlessly in the post-orgasmic haze until Jensen pats Jared on the back, bucks his hips up a little, making Jared hiss. “Come on, we gotta get cleaned up,” he whispers and Jared nods reluctantly.

He sits up and watches in awe as Jensen rises to his elbows, the side of his mouth tilted up in a smirk as he wiggles out from under Jared’s legs. He stands, his perfect body bared and illuminated by the flickering of the television as he pads toward the bathroom and Jared thinks he maybe stares into space for a while because before he knows it, Jensen’s back, standing there in a pair of pajama pants offering him a towel.

Jared takes the towel and cleans himself off, and the couch (which is luckily real leather and cleans up pretty easily), but then he’s suddenly really aware of his nakedness and Jensen is just standing there and he finds himself a little hesitant to look up and see what’s written on Jensen’s face.

“Jared,” Jensen prompts and Jared’s nostrils flare slightly as he looks up. “Stay?” Jensen asks and the best feeling of good washes over him as he smiles, nodding. “Come on,” Jensen holds his hand out to Jared, helping him to his feet and leading them to his room.

“That’s not fair, ya know,” Jared comments as he crowds behind Jensen once they reach the edge of the bed, his fingers flicking the hem of Jensen’s pants. Jensen chuckles and shrugs before pushing the offending material down and kicking them away, turning toward Jared and running his thumb over the highs of his cheekbone.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” Jensen says and his voice sounds awed. Jared shakes his head slightly before pressing his lips to Jensen’s, soft, sweet.

“Dean would kick your ass if he knew you were such a sap,” Jared whispers and grins widely when Jensen laughs. He watches as Jensen pulls away to push back the covers and crawl into the bed. Jared follows and curls up behind him, his arm wrapping around his waist as Jensen covers them in the warmth of the comforter, sheltering them from the cold December night.

“Good-night, Jay,” Jensen says and Jared smiles at the nickname, kisses Jensen’s shoulder.

“’Night, Jen.”


	6. Epilogue

Things were absolutely insane.

Jared enrolled in half of the courses he needed to graduate, knowing he would need the extra time to dedicate to the play. His advisor had worked with him, setting him up to attend classes via virtual classroom, allowing him to do his schoolwork when his time allowed, and they arranged it so that he could complete his core requirements in the summer, scheduling him for a fall graduation. He was disappointed he wouldn’t walk with his class, but his family had been nothing but supportive of his decision. His mother told him she knew he’d be happier on stage as Sam than in a cap and gown and she didn’t so much care when he graduated rather than how happy he was. It had surprised him, to say the least, but at the same time, it inspired him to work that much harder, both at school and on the play.

Supernatural hit the stage in late March, following two months of intense and hectic rehearsals, launching Jared into a world he’d heard plenty about, but had never actually experienced before. After only four showings, the play had received more press than any other in the last eight years. The media went nuts, putting Jared and Jensen in the spotlight, even off-stage. Interviewers were calling every day, people wanting a quote from one of the “new hunks of New York theater.”

Again, things were insane.

But they were also wonderful. The play was a complete success, almost every single showing of the first run was a packed house, even on week-nights, which was almost unheard of for a theater off-Broadway. With the success came the popularity, which Jared could’ve really done with or without, but he had one thing that he couldn’t live without.

Jensen.

Jensen had freaked out at one point, of course, around the first of February. When he tried to pull away from Jared, Jared had simply given him his space, not even trying to contact him outside of rehearsals but letting him know he loved him and would be there when he was ready. When Jensen showed up at his apartment two weeks later and asked Jared what he expected of him, Jared had shaken his head and honestly answered, “Anything you can give me, Jen. I just want you in my life.” Jensen had cried, though he’d deny it later, and confessed that he was in love with Jared, felt guilty for it, like he was betraying Jason. He didn’t know how to deal with it, and Jared had just wrapped him in an embrace and kissed his forehead.

“I don’t mind sharing your love with Jason, Jen. As long as it’s just with him, and not, like, the guy at the grocery store with the weird hair,” he’d said and Jensen had laughed, burying his face in Jared’s neck. It wasn’t an issue after that, and somehow, they became even closer.

Jensen had pretty much insisted Jared move in when his lease at Jerome’s came up in April, saying “it made sense” since they were already together most of the time anyways. Jared had agreed whole-heartedly with the logic, and even though Chris still scared him sometimes, things were pretty awesome in the whole dwelling-together department.

The first run of the play was over in May and the cast and crew had celebrated with a wrap-party just outside of the city. It had been a nice, intimate gathering and Jared had found himself almost depressed that he wouldn’t be seeing these people again until… well, indefinitely. Even with all of the buzz, Bobby hadn’t signed any contracts for a second, longer run, telling everyone that he was “in negotiations” with several theaters.

It’s two weeks after the wrap party when Jensen runs into bedroom where Jared is dressing from his shower. He’s got his cell phone in his hand, a curious, excited look on his face as he holds it between them and Jared quirks a brow at him.

“Alright, Bobby, you’re on speaker and Jared’s here,” Jensen says and Jared’s heart starts pumping double-time.

“Jared? You there, kid?” Bobby verifies and Jensen rolls his eyes.

“I’m here, Bobby,” he tells him, pulling a t-shirt on over his head.

“Ok, we’re all in attendance. Can you please tell us what the hell is so important?” Jensen is excited and his tone is more antsy than upset and Bobby laughs.

“Boys… guess who’s goin’ to Broadway,” he says and Jensen immediately drops the phone.

Jared scrambles to his knees, picks the cell back up, staring at it incredulously. “Are you – Is this for real?” He’s staring up at Jensen, who looks like a deer caught in head-lights, his eyes wide, hand still frozen where he’d been holding the phone.

Bobby’s laughing again and Jared can feel his pulse in his throat and wrists as he stands, heart seriously about to jump up through his throat and out onto Jensen’s shirt.

“We’re goin’ to Broadway!” Bobby hollers and Jensen’s eyes finally move from the dead space he’s been staring at to meet Jared’s, and the grin cracking his face is manic as his eyes light up.

“Dude,” is all he says and Jared bites his lip, his own smile hurting his face as he stares back at Jensen.

“We’re going to Broadway,” Jared echoes and then Jensen is on him, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him into a hard kiss.

“We’re goin’ to Broadway!” he says when he pulls away, just far enough to look into Jared’s eyes and they’re grinning like fools.

“We’re celebrating,” Bobby’s voice comes from somewhere near Jared’s hip and he raises the phone.

“When?” he asks and Jensen is still wrapped around him and the world is fucking awesome.

“Saturday night. I’ll have Deb send you all the details. And you two have an interview with the Times tomorrow, to go along with the announcement.” Bobby is all business, but his voice is still light, sounding happier than Jared can remember in the craziness that has been the last nine months.

“Bobby, man, I love you,” Jensen says and Jared can’t help but laugh at how breathless he sounds.

“Yea, yea. You two go celebrate. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Broadway! Son of a bitch!”

They’re laughing as they say good-bye, Jared flipping Jensen’s cell phone closed before tossing it to the bed. He turns and wraps his arms around Jensen’s waist, looking down into his lover’s eyes.

“I dunno if you heard, but…We’re going to Broadway, baby,” he whispers, the last of his words breathed against Jensen’s lips and Jensen smiles so wide, Jared thinks his heart just grew so it could handle how much he loves the fool currently staring back at him with crinkles around his gorgeous green eyes. “I love you, Jen.”

Jensen’s eyes are sparkling and his smile softens just a bit, becomes more curved and less crazy and he tilts his head just a bit to the left as he stares back up at Jared, fingers burying in his long locks. “You just love me ‘cause my sexy ass is a Broadway star,” Jensen deadpans and Jared laughs, loud and bold into the quiet of their shared room.

“Yea, that’s gotta be-” The rest of Jared’s come-back is swallowed by Jensen’s mouth and he can’t really complain.

~*~

“I can’t believe you’re going to Broadway!” is the only warning Jared gets before he’s tackled with all five foot nothing of his best friend, currently hanging from his neck and kissing his cheek repeatedly.

“Hey… Hey! Back off, McCoy,” Jensen teases as he comes up, joining Jared at his side. He laughs as Sandy lays a final and long smack of her lips on Jared’s cheek and drops unceremoniously to the floor, smoothing her dress with her little hands.

“Don’t worry,” she says as she swipes across the fabric. “Tom would have my ass on a platter if I even tried.”

“Better believe it,” a voice says and Jared looks up to see his friend smiling at them from a few feet behind Sandy. He’s dressed in a nice suit, the pale blue tie he’s wearing matching his eyes and Sandy’s dress perfectly. “Congrats, man,” he says as he steps forward and offers his hand to Jared.

Jared shakes it with a grin and Tom moves on to Jensen. Sandy waits until they’re done to sidle up next to Jensen and wrap him in a hug. “I’m so happy for you guys,” she says and Jensen laughs, hugs her back.

“Pretty unbelievable,” Jared says as he lets his gaze travel over the club Bobby selected for their celebration. The guest list was pretty long, including all the stage staples - starlets, producers, writers, and of course, every member of the original and current cast and crew for Supernatural. In other words, the club is absolutely packed.

“Super JAYYYYYYY!” a voice roars from behind them and Jared spins around to find Chad M. with his arm slung around a busty blonde, arm raised in a salute, drink spilling as he sloshes it around. “Congrats, bioooootch!” he shouts and Jared just grins, can’t seems to stop these days.

“Thanks, asshole!” he shouts back and Chad gives him an incredibly wide smile before turning back toward the stage, blonde in tow.

The night is spent drinking and dancing (which Jensen finally relents to after three shots and Jared’s continuous pleading) and laughing with anyone and everyone. Jared’s not drunk, but he’s a bit tipsy and the world is warm and wonderful as he leans into Jensen on the edge of the dance floor, both of them watching as Tom and Sandy dance to a disco version of No Doubt’s “Just a Girl.”

“I can’t believe all of this,” Jared says, bending low to speak directly into Jensen’s ear over the loud music.

Jensen turns and looks at him, a wistful smile on his face. “Keep thinkin’… Ya know, Jason missed all this,” he says, waving a hand in the air.

Jared wraps an arm around his lover’s shoulders and pulls him close. “I got a pretty good feelin’ he’s seen every bit of it, Jen.”

He thinks Jensen understands what he means when he feels an arm snake around his waist, holding tight and then Jensen is pressing his cheek into Jared’s shoulder.

He doesn’t feel jealous or resent Jason. He understands, knows that Jensen will always hold a place for his old lover in his heart. What matters is that Jared’s in there, too, and Jensen let him in, took a chance. The success, the fame, the glory and interviews – none of that really matters. What matters is that they took the chance and found something in each other that neither thought possible.

They found Sam and Dean

They found each other.

They found a future.

Together.

~*~*~*~

Supernatural – Tragic Beginnings Lead the Way for a Bright Future

By Charles Binghorn

We’ve all seen it happen, overnight sensations that shine brightly but then fall under the radar after their first production. This, however, does not seem to be the case when it comes to New York’s latest shining star, Supernatural, a compelling and twisted tale of two brothers on a search for a demon that killed their mother over two decades ago.

The play was originally scheduled to be put into production over five years ago, written and produced by a relatively unknown man by the name of Bobby Singer. Singer had worked in the industry for years as a ghost writer for screenwriters and novelists alike, but it was the script for Supernatural, written and adapted for stage with old friend Jason Manns, that brought him into the forefront of New York’s theatrical community.

Unfortunately, Manns, who was originally cast to play the role of Samuel Winchester in the play, was tragically killed in a car accident on the New Jersey Turnpike just months before the play was scheduled to open. The devastation of the loss reached each member of the cast, and it was unanimously decided among cast and crew to pull the play from production. Singer incurred a huge monetary loss from this, having been under contract with a local theater at the time.

However, five years later, after what Singer refers to as “time to come to terms with the loss,” he hit the ground running, and within four months, Supernatural had a theater and open casting calls were placed for the cast.

“It was a bit crazy,” Singer admits. “One second, I’m on the phone with Kim [Manners, the stage manager for Supernatural], begging him to get me in contact with anyone who could give us a run, and the next thing I know, we have a March opening and no cast.” He laughs about the incident, but he adds later that, “It couldn’t have worked out better, though. Jen [Jensen Ackles] was a really big factor in everything and I’m so grateful to him, for sticking with it.”

Jensen Ackles, also a part of the original cast, plays Dean Winchester in the theatrical hit. When we met with him and co-star Jared Padalecki, Ackles was very hesitant to mention the original production, simply saying, “Jason was a dear friend, and his death was a loss felt by all of us. It took a long time to… to recover from that loss. But I think he’d be proud of what we’ve done with the show.”

Ackles, it seems, was indeed a huge part of the current casting for Supernatural, recruiting Padalecki, who plays alongside him as Samuel Winchester, Dean’s brother. Padalecki was a student of Ackles’, who had started coaching at NYU when he decided to “take a break” from his stage career. In fact, two other members of the class were eventually cast in smaller roles.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Ackles laughs when we asked him about the casting. “When one of my students gets a role, we all congratulate them, you know? Show our support. When Alona [Tal] and Chad [Lindberg] found out about Jared, they asked if there were any supporting roles being cast, and of course, I gave them Bobby’s number.”

It’s the dynamic between Ackles and Padalecki that has reviewers shouting from the roof-tops, however, and both men blush when we ask them how it feels to be dubbed “the new hunks of the New York stage.”

“That’s… so far from the truth,” Padalecki laughs, shooting a look at his co-star as we sit in the small diner. It seems, in life as well as on stage, these two are as close as brothers. They joke and throw things at each other, both smiling and comfortable, even though Ackles is admittedly “shy” during interviews of any kind.

It doesn’t seem to be a problem when Padalecki throws an arm over his shoulder and smiles, telling us that “Jen is so unlike Dean in almost every way. Dean would probably throw holy water on him if he heard some of the things that come out of this man’s mouth.” Ackles’, who almost tosses his co-star out of the booth after the comment, just shrugs and smiles at us.

“He’s the one with the obsession with fruity-smelling lotion,” he tells us, and we have to admit, these two guys have a chemistry together, whether on-stage or off, and it’s that chemistry that has made Supernatural into the hit that it is.

It was announced Tuesday that the play has been added to the Broadway line up, something typically unheard of for a show only undertaking its second run, but Singer couldn’t be more thrilled.

“It’s amazing!” he says, his face seeming to light up at the mention. “We’ve all worked so hard, and the boys, they have just dedicated themselves so much, and it’s just amazing. They deserve it.”

The “boys” as Singer refers to them, just beam when we ask them how they feel about the announcement.

“If you asked me a year ago if I’d be on Broadway, I would’ve laughed in your face,” Padalecki confesses. “Hell, I still might.”

All in all, Supernatural has become a wonder of the New York stage. Its use of stage effects, the drama and action all combine into a show that is guaranteed to leave you breathless with wonder. Tickets for the Broadway run will go on sale in late August. Make sure to purchase them early, because if the past success is any indicator, they won’t be available for long.


End file.
